Defiance
by The BlackStaff and NightMarE
Summary: Memories are tricky things. Sometimes, they cause us to lose nights of sleep. Sometimes, they bring light to darkness. Sometimes, they change the course of destiny. Set after the events of Fourth year. Follow Harry Potter as he finds his way across his strange problems, his notoriety and of course, the resurrected dark lord trying to kill him. AU. Powerful! Harry, Harry/Daphne.
1. Chapter 1 : Innocence lost

" _ **You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?" said Voldemort softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness. The tip of the eerily familiar wand in his wand glowed bright green. Harry circulated through the number of curses and defensive spells he knew, not that any of them would help him now... now that he stood against the unblockable Avada Kedavra curse...**_

" _ **Bow to death, Harry..."**_

He shifted across the tiny bed, his entire body perspiring. "I won't... I won't..."

" _ **I said, bow," Voldemort said, raising his wand — and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.**_

"No... I won't... I will not let you play with me. I won't let you kill Cedric..."

" _ **Avada Kedavra!"**_

Harry woke upright, perspiring and completely desperate in anxiety and fear. The nightmares, they had not stopped at all. It had been the fourth night since he had returned from Hogwarts and he had barely gotten any sleep. The nightmares just did not allow him to have one. The moment he felt his eyelids droop, it would magically send him back to the memories of the graveyard, where he would have to bear it all over. Again and again.

 _This needs to stop. I will go insane if this continues._

He scrambled out of the bed and took out a piece of parchment from his trunk. Picking up one of the quills rolling off at the bottom, he scribbled a bit to check if it was working. It did.

 _ **Professor Dumbledore,**_

 _ **I have been having these nightmares ever-**_

He stopped. What the fuck was he doing? When had any good ever come out by informing the Headmaster? He would perhaps tell him to keep his head down and report to him about the nightmares as he had done the previous year. Sirius? Sending him a letter, would simply mean sending them to Dumbledore. His mind went back to the letter he had received from his godfather.

" _ **I know this must be frustrating for you... Keep your nose clean and everything will be okay. Be careful and don't do anything rash..."**_

Harry had decided that it was pot calling the kettle black.

Whom could he send it? Hermione? It would make no difference. The only person who was any worse was probably Molly Weasley. Hermione would instantly rant about reporting it to Dumbledore. For a moment, Harry wondered if his friends and family were his own or Dumbledore's. Ron? He snorted. That would be hilarious.

His mind wandered to the names of his friends. Ginny? He hardly knew her at all. Neville? Nope. The twins...

Hang on.

The twins. That would actually be a good option. While they had a penchant for pranking, the two were the most levelheaded people he had met. Besides, hadn't he generously given them a thousand galleons to jumpstart their joke shop? Perhaps they would be able to help. He took out another piece of parchment.

 _ **Fred and George,**_

 _ **How are you doing? Listen, I need some help and I would appreciate it if it stays between the three of us. I have been having constant nightmares and ever since I got home, and have not been able to get an ounce of sleep ever since. Every time I try to sleep, I am drawn to the night of the third task and have to watch and suffer seeing Cedric die and Voldemort torturing me.**_

 _ **Can you recommend anything that might help? Once again, please keep it within the two of you.**_

 _ **Thanks,**_

 _ **Harry.**_

He looked up at his dearest and most precious friend, Hedwig who was staring at him with something like pity. He felt like rolling his eyes. Even his owl was feeling pity for him. He casually wondered how pitiful and hopeless he was. The feeling was bitter, but it was the truth.

 _I am hopeless._

"Hedwig, do you think you can deliver the letter to the twins? Make sure they are alone, and that you are not seen."

The bird bobbed its head, and flew out of its perch as it now sat on his arm, one limb forwarded to him to bind the letter to it. He did so, and with a wild hoot, the owl flew out of the window.

Harry watched her go. His mind wandered back to the memory of the graveyard. He remembered looking at the unblockable killing curse forming at the tip of Voldemort's mind. But that was not the main point. No, the main point of concern were the thoughts that had been in his mind on seeing the curse manifesting at the wand tip.

 _ **He remembered, as though from a former life, the dueling club at Hogwarts he had attended briefly two years ago. All he had learned there was the Disarming Spell, "Expelliarmus" and what use would it be to deprive Voldemort of his wand, even if he could, when he was surrounded by Death Eaters, outnumbered by at least thirty to one? He had never learned anything that could possibly fit him for this. He knew he was facing the thing against which Moody had always warned- the unblockable Avada Kedavra curse — and Voldemort was right — his mother was not here to die for him this time... He was quite unprotected.**_

He felt ashamed of himself. To think that he had almost felt sorry that his mother wasn't there to save him from the curse. Wish the people could see the Boy-who-lived then. Facing the killing curse and trying to remember spells and curses he might have picked up while breezing and splurging away time all these years... playing chess and chatting on Quidditch with Ron, focusing on things that were not really his concern...

The Boy-who-lived was a bloody loser. A bloody arsehole.

 _Not again._

It had to change. He had to change. Ron's life was very, very different from him. Ron had family. He did not. Ron did not have an insane murderer try to kill him all his life. He did. Ron chose to jump into dangerous situations because it was an adventure. Harry had dangerous situations forced upon him all the time. Ron did not have to worry about being glorified one day, and shamed the next. Harry did.

 _Things have to change. I have to better, faster, stronger. Dumbledore might think that everything was all right and that I am safe as long as he is the one playing the card, but that is not it. Voldemort played with me... he mocked my useless skill, my parent's memory and me, and once again, I had to rely on luck to escape him._

He closed his eyes, willing rest and sleep to overwhelm him.

" _ **Crucio..."**_

He shot his eyes open desperately. Something was very, very wrong.

* * *

The House at Number 12, Grimmauld Place was indeed the most desolate building one would have ever spotted in the area. However, there was a slight problem in that statement- people would not really spot it. For, while the wards made it practically invisible to muggles, the newly applied Fidelius charm vanished the memory of its existence from every mind on earth save the lucky few who knew the secret. Fred and George Weasley were two such gentlemen.

Okay, perhaps _gentlemen_ was not the perfect word to describe them.

"I am going to apply the spray, George. The doxies should be flying towards you. Make sure the capture ward is working correctly." Fred yelled. George gestured him with a 'positive', as Fred sprayed the new liquid potion he had concocted. The mixture was supposed to make the doxies go all doozy, making them vulnerable for capture.

"And done." George exclaimed with delight. "Full sixty doxies in there. There is too much venom for two large barrels of nosebleed nougat."

"Don't forget the samples of extendable ears. We need the skin for that."

"Aye, my twin."

A flutter of wings distracted them from their mutual contemplation. Looking above, they found the gorgeous snowy owl they knew so well. "Blimey, that's ickle Harrikin's owl, isn't it?" Fred remarked.

"Seems like our investor has sent us a letter." George concluded as Hedwig perched lightly on his shoulder, extending her limb to which a piece of parchment was tied. Fred came over and slowly undid the binds as the parchment came out, releasing the bird which flew out instantly.

"Seems like she was in a real hurry?" Fred remarked.

"You reckon she has a date?"

"Nah..."

"Two dates?"

"Yeah."

"Check the letter."

"Righto!"

Fred unfurled the parchment and moved towards George as the twins read the contents.

"Blimey, our little investor needs our help."

"Nightmares. Reckon a mind healer might work?"

George shrugged. "Mind healers are expensive."

"Who needs mind healing?"

"YAAAAA!" The two of them jumped in unison. From the doorway, Bill guffawed at their antics as he entered the room. "Sorry I overheard your conversation. Who needs mind healing?"

"What would you know about mind healing, big brother?" George asked.

"Has the resident Veela bird been teaching mind-healing to Wee-lee-um?" Fred added. Bill blushed. "Nothing like that. I just know some good mind-healers. That's all," he added in a defensive tone.

Pause.

"So who is it?"

Fred and George looked at each other in unison. "You can't tell anyone." Fred warned. It was most unlike him, Bill mused. "Are you going to make me swear for it?" Bill suggested.

"YES." Came a reply in unison.

"The twin speech is very creepy." Bill muttered. "Very well, I swear on my magic not to reveal about what you two have shared with me. So mote it be." He paused. "Done?"

George nodded as Fred raised a privacy ward around them. Hesitating a bit, he began. "It's Harry."

* * *

 _ **Dear ickle Harrikins and our favorite investor,**_

 _ **We received your letter and we feel that you should see a mind healer. We even confirmed the fact with Bill (read Wee-lee-um) under oath, of course, and he says he knows somebody that can help. He says that he can help you out with it. He also told us to mention that the - something- is going to come and take you from your relatives to our place. (Hint! Hint!). He says that it will be sometime next week. Wee-lee-um says that it is better than you meet with that mind healer before this happens, and he will make sure you get the treatment that you want.**_

 _ **Do not contact. We will initiate contact when Bill is ready.**_

 _ **Gred and Forge.**_

Harry folded the letter that the twins had sent for him. Beside him, perched upon the cage was an angry Hedwig, hooting and glaring dangerously at the poor little owl that had come to deliver him the letter. He smirked.

"Come on, Hedwig. You know it only came to deliver the letter."

Hedwig balefully looked at him and stared.

"Don't give me that stare, young lady."

She barked twice.

"Yes, I know. I know I told you not to wait. You understand we can't let you be seen by the others, right?"

Hedwig flew up to his shoulder and gave him a tight slap with her feathers on the back of his head. He rolled his eyes, accepting the admonition without complain. The post owl saw this as its chance and fled for its life.

 _I need to sort things out. But first..._

He took out one of the notebooks he had bought from Scrivenshafts last year, as well as the books on defense that he had gotten as gifts all these years. He chose one at random, and read the cover on top.

 **CONFRONTING THE FACELESS.**

 _If I cannot sleep, I would rather utilize the time properly._

He opened the book and began perusing through it, the pages filled with illustrations of spells and their respective wand movements. Harry lifted up a fallen rod from the floor. It was one of the broken pieces from his second year, when he had broken through the window. As was obvious, the Dursleys had not cared to clean his room. Then again, the Dursleys hated seeing him alive in the first place. Not cleaning his room was much more... pedestrian compared to that.

He chuckled mirthlessly.

His eyes went to the contents section as he perused through the pages. Finding the section on fighting spells, his eyes settled on the one present on the very first point.

 **Ossis Fragmen.**

It was a powerful spell that could be used to break bones. Also known as the bone-breaker, it had another alternate and slightly powerful version - the bone shatterer, known as **Ossis Disfringo.** He wondered for a moment how his battle at the graveyard would have been if he had known these two spells. It would have been infinitely better than the disarming spell he used as if it was the only spell in his arsenal.

 _Then again, I have no idea how transforming needle into a napkin would help me in battle._

He checked through the entire spell list. There were fifteen spells in there. Using the steel rod, he performed the wand movement as the book mentioned, and then again and again, repeatedly until he could almost do it unconsciously. Fifteen powerful spells- a good combination of bone spells, severing hexes and exploding curses. He felt slightly more confident in the fact that there was actually a chance that he might live through it all.

 _At least, I won't die trying to stop the killing curse with a disarming charm._

He closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them instantly. For some odd reason, his mind seemed to magically shift towards the memories of that particular night. It was odd. He had now seen the events of that night sixty-nine times so far, not that he was counting. Every time, he would watch Voldemort cruciate him, play with him, make a mockery of his pathetic dueling skills and then, shoot the killing curse towards Harry. That would follow with Harry raising his wand to cast the disarming charm, and then that golden spell thing, followed by the echoes of his parents would appear. He would then somehow break the golden spell thing, and escape the spells of the death eaters, collect Cedric's body and return to Hogwarts using the Cup.

It was all the same all over again.

Something was wrong with him, and he wanted to find out what it was.

Almost automatically, his right hand darted towards his wand, which lay on the table. Calloused fingers touched the holly wood, almost caressing it, welcoming the tinge of magic that would sing against his skin when he held his precious wand in his hand.

The problem was- the tinge of magic never came.

Harry shot up from the bed, holding his wand in his hand. For the first time, it felt like he was holding a piece of dead wood in his hands. It was still supple, yes, but something was missing, the familiarity... it was all gone. It was almost like...

His wand was dead.

 _What the fuck is happening to me?_


	2. Chapter 2 : Mysteries

**Concido**. A powerful blasting curse, which acts at a specific place instead of a general area. The power can be amplified by addition of **'forte'** (medium) or **'maxima'** (high). The amount of destruction and power depends upon the strength of the caster.

 _I could use this instead of the general reducto._

 **Aegis Fortis.** Powerful shield. Around eight times sturdier than the normal Protego.

 **Contego.** The advanced version of Protego. Can be used to shield others instead of self. Power can be modulated using the suffixes **forte** and **maxima**.

 **Fulmen.** A powerful elemental spell that causes a fork of lightning to erupt towards the opponent. Power varies upon the strength of caster.

 **Malleus pugno.** Also known as Hammerfist, this spell is the most powerful bludgeoner. Illegal to use except for Aurors and Hit-wizards.

Harry closed the diary, mentally making sure he remembered all the spells and their wand movements he had learnt so far. It had been five days since he had received the letter from the twins. No one had yet showed up so far. Perhaps something had happened. Perhaps-

He shook his head. There was no point worrying mindlessly and attracting negative thoughts. It was not as if he was getting an ounce of rest anyway. The nightmares had continued their relentless assault on him, and every time he was forced to watch the same scene over and again. Harry had almost given up, deciding that if the only way he could sleep was to tolerate the nightmares, so be it. Understandably, the black marks underneath his eyes had slowly started to disappear as the fourteen-year-old had lost himself into deep, troubled sleep. For some reason, the Dursleys seemed to leave him alone, except in the morning when he had to do his daily chores. That and dinner, and except that, they left him mostly alone. He was more than grateful for that.

Even his perception of the night had changed. Watching the same scene had brought those wounds to resurface the first couple of days, but then, after watching them over and over again, he began to feel almost insensitive to the event. Now, he spent his time spotting every nuance and cranny of the dream, studying his arch-nemesis and trying to spot the other death eaters in his dream.

For some reason, the nightmares did not stop recurring. It was almost as if his brain had stopped at that particular event, and was recurring repeatedly. It was almost like a-

A recording gone wrong.

Harry's face blanched with the realization. Had something happened to his memory? Was that why his mind was replaying the same events, repeatedly? Was it giving him some kind of alert signal that some of his memories were missing?

His mind went back to the events of the second year. The memory spell. Obliviate. He had heard Lockhart use it. He had seen the spell backfire. He now knew each single event of his nightmare but could never spot being hit by an Obliviate.

 _What could have happened?_

Lockhart had ended up in long-term spell damage ward because of the spell gone wrong. For a moment, he wondered if he might end up beside the fraud, mentally scarred and damaged for life. He lifted his wand again. Still the same. The desperation of not being able to feel that tinge of magic set him off.

He whipped the wand and pointed it to the chair, as he yelled. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Nothing happened. Not even an inch of the chair moved.

 _Fuck_.

He suddenly looked all around, listening keenly to any sounds of owls dive-bombing around him. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds.

One minute.

Two minutes.

No owl.

He looked back at his wand. The stick felt dead as ever. Had his wand lost its magic, somehow during the fight? Momentarily, he wondered of this was how Neville felt when he could not cast a spell. He had seen Malfoy mock Neville and call him several times, calling him a-

 _Squib._

A certain scary thought pervaded inside his mind. What if, it wasn't his wand? What if-

What if, it was he himself? Had he lost his magic?

 _Am I a squib?_

The thought felt nasty, almost as if someone had torn his torso and expelled the organs out. Magic was one thing that he had; something that separated him from the Dursleys It had always been magic that had helped him out of all situations. He might not have understood how... but on each and every of those situations, he sure felt the presence of magic- the fight with Quirrel, the battle with the basilisk, the dementors... he felt he would die if he didn't have magic anymore.

The disbelief rose in him like a tidal wave, unwilling to accept that he did not have any magic left inside his body. He held up his wand tightly, not caring if his accidental casting might cause him trouble at the ministry. At least it would prove that he still had magic in him. He whipped the wand and yelled, "Wingardium Leviosa"

Nothing happened.

Anger surged through him. He could feel something stirring inside him.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

Still nothing happened. The wand felt as dead as ever.

His anger turned into a tempest. Had he noticed himself, he would have observed a slight change all around him. His magic was reacting violently, releasing a steel gray aura all around him. He held the holly wand tightly and went for his best spell.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"'

He felt his magic surge through him. Flowing mightily like a tidal wave, arising from his chest into his hand. He felt the wand get heated up suddenly as it vibrated for a moment and then-

The wand pulverized into dust.

Tears came to Harry's eyes, but the shock of the situation was not over. In his anger, he had shot both of his palms outward as he had pronounced the spell. While his right hand had held the phoenix wand, the very same that was presently nothing more than dust, his other hand was glowing softly. A slight glance showed him that his right hand was glowing as well.

Only if that were the only surprising thing in the room.

A large horse-like creature, except that it was skeletal in appearance, and had large, bat-like wings, stood in front of him in all its glory. Blinding white light ebbed out of it- bathing the entire room in light.

 _Is this... is this my Patronus?_

Almost as if in response, the ethereal creature nodded its large head, towards his hand. Almost automatically, he rose his hand towards the creature, touching it. It felt soft, wet, and solid, and most importantly, the tinge of magic, the familiarity that he felt when he touched his dear phoenix wand was there.

 _But why did my Patronus change? It should be a stag._

The creature, as if it were sensing his fragile emotions, brushed his hand with it's nuzzle. The gesture felt strangely comforting to him. His eyes turned towards the creature, and then towards the dust on the floor—the final remnants of his dear departed phoenix wand, and when another shocking thought surged through his mind.

 _If my wand is dust, how did I cast the Patronus?_

He looked at his palms, which were still glowing, though the glow had dimmed a little. A wild idea appeared to him, as he willed the Patronus to disappear. The skeletal horse brushed its nuzzle against his palm once more as it dissipated. He raised his right palm towards the chair and whispered.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

The chair shot up to the ceiling.

* * *

William 'Bill' Weasley walked out from the bank as he walked towards the main apparation points in Diagon Alley. The advantage of apparating from these points were that since many people apparated from here, it was immensely difficult to spot their respective termination points. And letting others know where he was headed was something he wanted to avoid.

He disapparated and reappeared in the outskirts of Surrey, and cast a disillusionment charm on himself. He walked towards the direction of privet Drive, carefully looking all around and watching for any kind of magical activity. Suddenly, he felt a strange rush of magic flowing out from one of the lanes. His years as a goblin-trained curse breaker had sharpened his skills at magic sensing. Knowing who lived in that particular lane, he sprinted towards the house, his mind clouded with worry about what might have happened.

 _Harry!_

* * *

Harry had just finished through the entire set of new spells he had learnt from the book he had on elemental charms. So far, he had been able to cast the Glacius and Incendio charms to great effect, the special point of notice being the moment when he was able to cast the two opposing charms simultaneously through the two palms. The fun thing was- none of the wandless magic seemed to be tracked by the Ministry sensors, not that he was complaining. Overjoyed at the new development, he had hastily taken out all of his books, and started perusing on the subjects. Perhaps transfiguration would be interesting.

He was just about to try the animation charm he had learnt last year when he heard a sound of someone rushing into the garden. Stopping midway, he got out of his room; he stepped out into the drawing room towards the door. Dudley was away for the week, and Petunia and Vernon had gone to some club; there was no way someone would come at this hour.

 _Could it be-?_

He looked through the keyhole, but found nothing. Guessing it was someone invisible, he opened the door slowly, and his palm faced outward and a blasting curse on his lips.

A disembodied voice greeted him. "Hey Harry." It sounded nervous.

"Bill." Harry guessed.

"Shhh..." Bill admonished, "We don't want anyone to know that I am here."

Harry's face dropped all traces of geniality. "Am I being watched?"

"By our people, yes, but I am not supposed to tell you anything about that." The voice paused for a moment. "Listen quickly now, the twins told me that you are suffering from some problems?"

Harry nodded. "It's a long story."

"I have some connections with some private mind-healers, who can help with that. They work quickly and ask no questions. But we will have to be fast." The urgency was distinct in his voice.

Harry hesitated a bit. Then, he cleared his throat. "How do I know it is you?"

A soft laugh was heard. "Alastor would be proud of you, Harry. Constantly vigilant, are we?"

Harry grinned.

"I lost four galleons to you in the bet we had last summer."

Harry felt a shot of elation surge through him. "Very well. Do I need to take my belongings?"

"Just your wand. We will return as quickly as possible."

Harry pondered over telling Bill about the wand, but then changed his mind and nodded.

"I cannot apparate inside the wards surrounding the house. If I do, it will alert everyone, including the Ministry. We do not want that, given the conditions."

"What do you mean?"

"Long story."

Harry dropped the topic.

"The twins told me that you have an invisibility cloak, correct?" Harry nodded as Bill continued. "This is what I want you to do. I want you to put that cloak over and walk to the park I noticed a couple of yards away. Right at the bench inside the park. Can you do that?"

Nod.

"I will apparate you from there to our location."

"Understood."

"Go on then." And the voice was no longer heard.

* * *

Masking himself completely by the invisibility cloak, he rushed out of the Dursley residence and walked carefully towards the park. As told, he stood right in front of the bench and whispered. 'I am here."

He heard a sigh just near his neck. Turning around instantly, he witnessed the materializing figure of Bill Weasley in front of him as the disillusionment charm faded. Bill nervously looked around. "Stay under your cloak, just hold my hand tightly. I am going to apparate us out of here."

Harry did so, and three second later, he felt the tug at his navel as he felt himself dragged and squeezed through a small keyhole. The entire thing was very nauseous and uncomfortable. The moment his feet touched the ground, Harry buckled down and threw up.

"Side-along apparation isn't enjoyable." Bill commented from beside, observing his reaction.

"I didn't know that, tell me more." Harry replied sarcastically, much to Bill's amusement. Then, he stared up in front of him. The two were standing in front of the humongous, pearly white edifice that sprawled across Diagon Alley.

Gringotts.

"What are we doing in front of Gringotts? I thought you were taking me to see a-"

"Mind healer, yes." Bill interrupted, "—and that is why we need to enter this building."

"But this is Grin-"

"I know." Bill replied impatiently. "No more questions. Follow me swiftly. Make no noise."

Still under his invisibility cloak, Harry just shrugged, following the eldest Weasley brother into the bank.

* * *

The two of them crossed the guards on the outside, crossed the rows of people waiting in front of the tellers, and made their way into one of the corridors along the side of a rather lavish archway on the left. Harry followed Bill silently, as the elder Weasley walked stiffly, not looking on either side. After some moments, they had come to a crossroad, and Bill turned to the right sharply, and stood in front of a large door. Whipping his wand out, Bill tapped the door at three different places as the door glowed.

"William Weasley. Curse Breaker. Three-o-five-Dee."

It was some sort of password, Harry guessed as the door glowed brightly, as it disappeared from view, leaving an empty doorway to enter. Bill entered through it, and Harry swiftly followed.

If only it had been so easy.

The moment Harry stepped into the doorway; a white light shot out of the hinges, and formed a barrier, preventing him from entering. He stood, holding his breath, not even trying to twitch a single muscle in fear that it would set the alarm.

"My guest." Bill explained casually, as the light dissipated once again. Harry sighed elatedly as he entered into the room.

It was a strange room. Unlike all of Gringotts, this looked like some kind of muggle office. There were a couple of couches sprawling here and there, with a large table in the center. Behind the table, on a rather kingly throne, sat a goblin- a very old, whiskered goblin.

"You can unveil the invisibility cloak, young Lord."

Harry mused for a moment why the goblin had called him using that unusual name, but he digressed. Things much more important were in his mind. He lifted the cloak up, and looked at Bill who nodded towards the goblin.

"Harry Potter, meet one of the most revered shamans in the country. Nagnok Frades el Boliva."

Harry had never learnt the customs and ways required to conduct dealings with goblins. After a moment of hesitation, he slightly nodded his head. "Uh, nice to meet you, Sir."

"Please come and take a seat." The old goblin had a croaky voice. Harry and Bill walked towards the seats and relaxed comfortably. The goblin gave Harry a sharp look and continued. "Our curse-breaker says that you require a mind-healer for some subjects of an undisclosable nature."

Harry gave a doubtful glance towards Bill who nodded encouragingly. "You can trust him." Turning back towards the goblin, he let out a sigh and began. "You might not believe me," knowing Fudge's reaction when Dumbledore had revealed to him about the return of Voldemort, "- but it is the truth. On the night of the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, I was kidnapped from Hogwarts using a portkey to a place where-"

"The dark lord was resurrected, we know." Nagnok replied, finishing Harry's words for him. As if in answer to his inquisitive look, "-we might be bankers, young Lord but we were warriors once. In fact, we still are. It is the nature of the warrior to never underestimate the rise of a possible enemy."

Harry nodded. "Are you going to fight against Voldemort when the time comes-?"

"If he turns against us, yes. We believe staying neutral is good for profit. But knowing what we know about the dark lord, he will turn on us on a whim."

Pause.

"Ever since I had returned home for the holidays, I have been getting nightmares about the fight I had in the graveyard."

"That is perfectly natural—you just had a near-death experience. It is natural to suffer some nightmares of that incident-"

"Every single time I close the eyes." Harry finished.

That shut Nagnok up.

"Every single time-" Bill construed.

"I close my eyes, yes. It is as if my mind is fixated at that memory. I have watched the same scene replay itself again and again, repeatedly over a hundred times so far. That is not natural." Harry emphasized.

"No, it's not." Nagnok construed. "Is it possible to view this memory?"

"In a pensieve?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows at the goblin.

"You are familiar with one, I see."

Bill shot him a surprised look, but did not say anything.

"Are you familiar with the process of extracting a memory?" Bill asked.

"I cannot- I can't do it by myself."

"I will help you." Bill advised. "Think of the incident, and only of that particular incident. I will do everything else."

It was only too easy. Why? Because his mind was almost over-eager to replay the events the moment he closed his eyes, and tried to relax. In matter of a couple of seconds, he was back to that night. His facial features stiffened as he felt Voldemort cruciate him. Bill instantly placed his wand at Harry's temples and extracted the memory out, dropping it into the silvery waters of the pensieve Nagnok had brought out.

The memory glowed with a crimson tinge, something that did not go unnoticed by Bill and Nagnok. However, neither said anything about it.

"We will watch the memory first, and then listen to your problems." Nagnok stated in a no-nonsense tone. Harry nodded.

"Are you going to join in?" Bill asked. Harry gestured a denial with a sway of his arm. "Watched it too many times. Be my guest." Bill nodded and looked at Nagnok, who activated the runes of the device before it swallowed both of them in.

* * *

After what seemed to be an anxious twenty minutes or so, the pensieve glowed again as it erupted with a queer little noise, as Nagnok and Bill were ushered out of it, back to their seats. Nagnok's face held a queer, calculating expression while Bill seemed downright shaken.

"That- the dark lord-you-"

Harry waited for a moment, before Bill composed himself using Occlumency and regarded Harry again. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?" Harry asked, completely oblivious to Bill's query.

"Defeat the dark lord himself in a battle of wills. He should have blasted you away when the spells connected. Despite the reverse spell effect, you should have been blasted into smithereens when the dark lord pushed his entire power towards you. Forgive me, but you are just a fourteen-year-old and-"

"Holds a power at par with the dark lord." Nagnok intervened speculatively.

"What... No!" Harry denied, completely at odds with the idea that he stood any chance against the dark lord. His minions, yes, but having power at par with Voldemort? The idea was completely bollocks.

"Let us return to your problems. You say that your mind is fixated at this memory, right?"

Nod.

"Is it all, I mean- is that all you are suffering from?"

Harry paused. "There is something else." He hesitated for a moment. "Ever since that night, I haven't been able to find any familiarity with my wand." His darted a glance towards Bill, who nodded understandably. "My wand felt cold, dead."

Nagnok gasped shortly but did not say anything.

"In my frustration, I even tried to cast magic using my wand, but nothing happened. However, today morning, the frustration rose more than I could control and I feared that I had lost my magic." Bill looked at him with something like pity, but Harry continued. "In my anger, I tried to shove my magic through my wand as it cast the Patronus spell."

"You can cast a Patronus?" Bill asked with awe.

"Yeah, it is a stag." He hesitated, "I mean it _was_ a stag."

"A _corporeal_ Patronus? Since when?" Nagnok pressed.

"Since last year. I conjured my Patronus for the first time when I was attacked by Dementors." Harry paused for a moment.

"Impressive, for a thirteen year old. How many dementors were there?" Nagnok asked generally.

"I think, I think around a hundred. The entire horde that was sent to Hogwarts had attacked me."

Bill and Nagnok swallowed in unison. "You fought against a _hundred_ dementors with a _single_ Patronus? And that too when you cast it for the _first_ time?"

Harry fought against the blush he was getting because of the embarrassment. He still had problems trying to accept compliments from people.

"Extraordinary." Nagnok exclaimed. "Anyway, what happened when you tried to cast the Patronus today morning?"

"My wand- my wand began to heat up and vibrate, and then- and then, it turned into dust." Harry returned with impeccable sadness in his voice.

Nagnok eyed him speculatively. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Harry lifted his head as the joy of doing wandless magic, returned to him. "I found out that I could do this." He raised his palm to the right, and whispered. "Expecto Patronum!"

The huge, skeletal winged-horse erupted out of his palm and trotted out into the wide room. The bright light emanating from it was dazzling.

"A thestral..." Bill replied reverently. Turning to Harry, "You said it was a stag."

"It was, just that since today morning, it is this- this horse."

"Thestral." Bill corrected.

"thestral." Harry repeated.

"Extraordinary." Nagnok repeated again. "Wandless magic, and without straining. I have one final question, young Lord. Describe your wand for me."

Harry looked puzzled. "Holly and phoenix feather. Eleven and a half inches. Nice and supple." He paused, hesitating to say the next part. "Ollivander said that my wand is the brother wand of Voldemort's wand."

A smile crossed Nagnok's lips as his eyes shone with recognition. "Finally, yes it all makes sense, now."

"Excuse me, what makes sense?" Harry prodded.

Nagnok relaxed back into his chair. "From the moment you entered this room, young Lord, the room has been scanning your magic and your vitals. From the information, it garnered and from what you revealed, I believe I have a few things I can tell you at this moment. More than that, I will need some more time. Perhaps a month or so, if my hunch is correct."

Harry nodded.

"The first thing is that you, Mister Harry Potter, were hit by a killing curse on the night of the third task."

* * *

Pause.

Harry blinked.

Then blinked again.

Pause.

"That can't- can't be possible." Harry darted an uneasy glance towards Bill. "I mean, I would remember if I got hit by the curse." He paused. "Right?"

Bill did not reply.

"The second thing, is that the memory you submitted to me, the memory that your mind seems to be fixated at, has been tampered with."

Harry's eyes widened. "I was obliviated?"

"It was more than a memory spell, young Lord. The memory has been hidden from everyone using one of the most powerful spells in Wizarding magic. The Fidelius."

Bill's eyes were large, gaping holes. "Someone hid away a portion of Harry's memories by a Fidelius? Is that even possible?"

Nagnok nodded. "The Fidelius can be used to hide nearly almost anything that has a non-tangible nature. Locations, secrets, information..." he left the statement open-ended. "Fortunately, we goblins have a way to find out the source; that is to say- we can track out the person that cast the spell."

"Who was it? Who cast the Fidelius?"

For the first time, Nagnok smiled at Harry as he gazed at him. He looked downright scary. "It was you."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE : I hope you are liking this story. To the best of my knowledge, the premise of this story is unique. I have always hated the idea that Harry was a weak wizard with a very small arsenal of spells and powers when he was supposed to have a power the dark lord knew not. The graveyard scene- it was a bad joke to me. Anyway, I hope you love it. Please follow, favorite and review. Thank you.**


	3. Chapter 3 : Lordship and Secrets

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _Harry's eyes widened. "I was obliviated?"_

" _It was more than a memory spell, young Lord. The memory has been hidden from everyone using one of the most powerful spells in Wizarding magic. The Fidelius."_

 _Bill's eyes were large, gaping holes. "Someone hid away a portion of Harry's memories by a Fidelius? Is that even possible?"_

 _Nagnok nodded. "The Fidelius can be used to hide nearly almost anything that has a non-tangible nature. Locations, secrets, information..." he left the statement open-ended. "Fortunately, we goblins have a way to find out the source; that is to say- we can track out the person that cast the spell."_

" _Who was it? Who cast the Fidelius?"_

* * *

There are moments when one feels to simply so fed up of things and run away. Again, there are moments when one feels to search for a rock to hide under it. This was one of those moments.

"I- I cast the spell?" Harry asked with a tone filled with disbelief and shock.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, Chief Shaman," Bill intervened, "but the Fidelius is an incredibly complicated incantation with various esoteric requirements. Even I cannot cast the spell properly. Surely Harry cannot have-"

"I don't even know what the spell particularly does; let alone how to cast the spell." Harry challenged.

Nagnok frowned. "My inference is not wrong, young Lord. You cast the spell, you revealed the secret of the memory to someone you held as the secret keeper, and," he paused, "you did it during the fight in the graveyard, and if my calculations are correct, sometime between the moment when you were stuck in Priori Incantatem, and the moment you touched the Cup. One single spell and you removed a complete set of memories from every mind present there, including your own."

"But why would I do that? Assuming that I could do it in the first case." Harry challenged.

"I cannot answer that. I can only tell you what inferences I made from studying whatever I got from you." Nagnok replied simply.

"So, you mean to tell me, that not even Voldemort-"

"The Fidelius removed the memory from every mind present there. No one knows what happened or might have happened." Nagnok pressed. "No one else, apart from the secret keeper, now knows the secret of your lost memories."

Nagnok's words fell like lightning on his mind. How in the world had he cast the Fidelius, which Bill described as a very complicated incantation? He could have sworn that he had never even read anything of that sort before. He swallowed. "What else can you tell me, Chief- Shaman?"

For some reason, the old goblin looked pleased. "As I mentioned, you were hit by the killing curse. My inference is that it happened during the very event- the one whose memories are hidden from you at the moment. When the killing curse hit you, for some reason once again, it did not kill you. Instead, it changed your magic. So magically, in a weird way, you are Harry Potter, but you are _not_ the Harry Potter you once were."

"I am Harry Potter and I am not? I do not understand." Harry asked in a completely oblivious tone.

"Every magical witch, wizard or creature has a magical signature. It is what defines him or her. The Ministry tracks this magical signature to find out if magic has been cast in presence of a muggle. For some reason, when you were hit by the curse, you did not die but it did change your magical signature. That is the reason why wandless magic has become so easy for you. Your new magic is very well tuned to your core and can draw out magic without a wand, though I would suggest getting one from your family Vault if not buy a new one. Your original wand- it was compatible with your previous signature, but completely incompatible with your new one." The old goblin paused for a moment, allowing Harry to understand what he was saying, "Tell me, young Lord, have you noticed any other differences about you since the event?" His eyes surreptitiously went towards the lightning bolt scar.

"Now that you mention it, I haven't had any pains in my scar since then." Harry confessed. It was such a small matter, plus with the nightmares and everything, I didn't think it important. Why? Does it make a difference?"

Nagnok glanced at the scar speculatively. What was once an angry red scar was now dimmed and almost normal looking. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I believe I will need to conduct certain... tests on the subject. Can I ask you to give me some of your blood for the tests?"

Harry agreed unconditionally.

"Fine. The charges for this will be charged from your account, of course. Is that all?" Nagnok concluded.

Harry hesitated. "I do not mean to be rude, but why did you address me as 'young Lord'?"

Nagnok raised his eyebrows as he glanced towards Bill. "Surely he knows?"

Bill looked half-confused and half-hesitant. He turned to Harry and asked, "Harry, you do know about your heritage and family, right?" Harry looked back at him with saucers for eyes. "My heritage? Family? What are you talking about?"

 _Crap._ Bill decided. This was going to take some time. "I have no idea why Dad didn't tell you, but you are the last living descendant, and thus Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. I think we need to visit your account manager, he will be able to explain it to you at length."

Harry felt bitter inside. He was so used to having the least possible information all his life that it didn't even come as a shock. Dumbledore, Mcgonagall, the Dursleys, Lupin and now Mr. Weasley, it seemed everyone thought him unworthy of having any information. It felt bitter. Very, very bitter.

"Let's go." He ground out. Nodding towards the old goblin, he whispered, "Thank you Chief Shaman, I will wait for the results."

"I will send a missive when it is done." Nagnok advised. Bill took the opportunity to bow and dart away from the room, swiftly followed by a very bitter Harry Potter masked by his cloak.

* * *

"What do you mean you never received any of our summons?" thundered the goblin seated opposite the two of them. "We even received letters from you, saying that you were not ready to take up the Lordship at the moment and wanted to delay it till the age of seventeen!"

Harry was now getting angry. "Account manager Ripclaw, I swear I did not know anything about it. I never once received a single letter from Gringotts."

"Your guardian says the opposite." Ripclaw countered sassily.

"I have a guardian?" Harry wondered aloud in surprise. Ripclaw looked like he was about to skin him off with his bare nails. Considering how sharp and shiny they were, Harry could not help but shiver at the thought of the gruesome death that might come over him in the not-so-distant future.

"Albus Dumbledore is your magical guardian. I have letters," he paused, levitating a bunch of files from a nearby desk towards his table. "He has specifically mentioned it that you have particularly stated that-"

"I have never taken any decision regarding my family and heritage. For Merlin's sake, I never even knew I had a fucking heritage to live for." Harry replied hotly. He stood up from his seat and banged on the table, his aura showing up again. "Is that so difficult to understand?"

The goblin stared blankly at the aura rising up from the very angry wizard standing in front of him. Knowing what was good for him, he changed track.

"Then, Mister Potter, we have a problem."

* * *

 **Thirty Minutes later.**

"Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your ascension, Lord Potter." Ripclaw shook his hand, as Harry nodded. Bill gave him a brotherly hug and slapped his shoulder in appreciation.

"Thanks Bill, Ripclaw. Can I please visit my family Vault next?"

"Yes, Lord Potter. What would you like to do with your trust Vault?"

"I would like to keep it for now. In addition, I need to withdraw a substantial amount of money today. I hope that wouldn't be a problem." Harry replied confidently, inwardly wondering how he was able to deal with such stressful situations so confidently. The older Harry would have perhaps tried to reject everything, sit down, and brood. For a moment, he could not help but be fond of the changes that had come in him. For one, his mind felt clearer than ever. Dumbledore had manipulated too many parts of his life, and to be honest, he was more than tired of giving in to the old man's orders. Perhaps it was the rebellious nature of youth, perhaps not, but one thing was clear. He was not going to allow Albus Dumbledore lead him around by the nose.

"Sure."

The trio reached for the goblin cart track and started on their journey to the Potter family vault. The cart drove faster and faster on the high-winding track and Harry could spot many common names on the vaults as they crossed them- Black, Bones, Crabbe, Greengrass... it finally crossed Malfoy and Mcmillian and finally he felt the cart slow down with a wild lurch and came at a standstill at Potter.

"The Potter Family Vault. Upkeep costs are barely noticeable with your current holdings, as I know, please advance to the vault door and place your left hand and wand on the door", Ripclaw announced.

A few seconds later, the door glowed with a silvery shimmer. Harry looked at the door and saw it fade from sight to reveal the contents of the vault inside. The first room contained more gold than Harry could believe existed. The room was quite large and the gold was neatly stacked in rows and set into trays, which were stacked from floor to ceiling. The stacks filled the room to where only a narrow path was open for a person to walk to the next room. The defined barrier in the wall shimmered and vanished as Harry approached it.

The second room had more gold in it, but only a few stacks reached the ceiling and the remaining few stacks were only a few feet high. Harry found much of the remaining room filled with books. Shelves and shelves of books lined the walls and again a small walkway was left open. The next room was filled with paintings, armor, furniture, jewels, and other heirloom type of things. Harry was looking at clothes that seemed a few hundred years out of date.

"This is all mine?" Harry asked.

"This and all other vaults that are attached to the Potter family by means of individual investments that keep on increasing the monetary worth of your family vault." Ripclaw explained.

"I was never told about any of this." He muttered to himself.

"I will speak to Dad about it. He should have told you about it. Then again, he might have thought that you already knew. Perhaps Dumbledore-" Bill began.

Harry felt his left eye twitch in irritation at the mention of that despicable man's name. "Dumbledore has fucked up too many things in my life, Bill."

Bill nodded and did not counter it. "We should be quick Harry, or else someone will spot your absence."

"So people can spy on me, but cannot tell me what is going on. I suppose even Ron and Hermione are in this, aren't they? Their letters-"

"Dumbledore prevented them to contact you, for your-"

"Of course. Of course." Harry countered coldly. For some reason, Bill didn't refute. His eyes wandered towards the heirloom section where he could see several boxes of wands arranged. "Harry, perhaps you could check with one of those wands. Maybe someone in your family had a wand compatible with you?"

Harry paused, and thought about his advice. It made sense. He had no wish to display his newfound wandless ability in front of everyone. It could be his ace-in-the-hole. He needed a wand. A proper wand.

He walked towards the cabinet that displayed the wands. Small trays with each tray holding the wands from each generation. He took out the first tray and reverentially caressed the surface of the wands on it, knowing it were his parents' wands.

They felt cold. Dead.

Sadness gripped him. He took out the next tray.

Still nothing.

Five trays passed off, and yet there was no wand reacting to him even by a small part.

He was almost about to give up hope when his glance fell on a small box placed at the bottom. Instinctively, he picked it up and opened it. Inside it were five wands. The first four showed no reaction but the fifth-

The moment his fingers touched the surface of the fifth wand, an extremely familiar tinge of magic caressed against his skin. Almost automatically, he lifted the wand up and held it in his hand. An enormous amount of magic surged into him, as his aura shone brightly with a powerful wind all around him. The pressure of magic all around him was so great that he could hardly breathe. Just as quickly as it had come, the extreme pressure dissipated, and he almost fell down on the floor, so taxing the ordeal had been.

"Harry," Bill cried out in shock, "Harry, are you all right?" he lunged towards him, holding the boy before he fell.

"I am okay," Harry replied, still breathing heavy. The magic around the wand had somehow taken a heavy toll on him. "This wand," he held it towards Bill, "it feels nice. Stronger and more familiar than my phoenix wand ever did."

Bill carefully held the wand in his hands. Yew. Yew stood for power and rebirth. It was quite long, approximately thirteen inches, according to his estimation. He handed it over to Harry who took it back.

"Whose wand is it?"

Harry shrugged.

"If I may, perhaps I will be able to help you with that titbit?" Ripclaw proposed. Harry gestured as the goblin walked into the chamber and observed the box carefully. "This is a _family_ wand."

"A family wand?" Bill asked curiously.

"Yes, a wand which has passed down through at least fifteen descendants down the family, and whose original master is unknown. Usually, the new master of a family wand resurfaces during the event of a possible prophecy." Harry answered almost hypnotically, and then he paused, ignoring the looks on Ripclaw and Bill's face. "How did I know that?"

"That is essentially _correct_ , Lord Potter." Ripclaw stared at Harry oddly for a moment. "I do not really expect wizards to know about family wands, Mister Potter. They are a part of much obscure concepts lost to wizard kind."

Harry shrugged, inwardly trying to think how in the seven hells did he know what a family wand meant.

"Let's go." Bill urged, not really in the mood for any more groundbreaking revelations and surprises. Harry shrugged and collected the gold he came for, before departing from the vault.

* * *

"Get the cloak back on, Harry." Bill advised as they stepped into the main corridor that led to the tellers. "We do not need anyone to see you, or else both you and I will have to suffer an entire interrogation session." Bill sulked.

Harry smirked. "Who are these people you are so afraid of, Bill? And why are they spying on me?"

They stepped into the main corridor, Harry once again enveloped and masked by his cloak. His cloak seemed to stick to him magically, almost as if hugging him. Had the situation been any different, he would have noticed, but given the number of revelations he had had throughout the day, it seemed too inconsequential to him.

"I can't tell you, Harry. Dumbledore's orders. Anyway, you will get to find it out soon enough. Now all we need is to get you back at home safe and no one will need to know what-"

His voice stopped midway, as his words remained back in his throat. An ethereal swan Patronus floated towards him, and a very feminine voice answered, "Dementors have attacked Privet Drive. Potter's relatives are dead. Potter is missing. Report soon."

 _Fuck._

"Harry?"

"Harry?"

Harry stood still, still at a loss to understand how or what had happened. "How—how did the dementors find my place, Bill?"

"I don't know. Dementors are in control of the Ministry. For them to go rogue and try to kill you, it simply means that they have sided with the dark lord once again." Bill surmised. "There is no point in maintaining this façade any more. Anyone asks, I went to Privet Drive and found you at the- the-" He grasped for ideas.

"The gym. There is a new gym in Surrey. I was at the gym and was returning back and you found me there."

"Right. So this gym, where is it actually?"

Harry took five minutes to explain the proper location of the gym. For proper evidence, Bill apparated to the spot with Harry and then apparated away. "This is the place where we are going to enter. But, wait here first and don't remove the cloak." Bill ordered.

Still under his cloak, Harry could see the grimy fronts of the surrounding houses were not welcoming; some of them had broken windows, glimmering dully in the light from the streetlamps, paint was peeling from many of the doors, and heaps of rubbish lay outside several sets of front steps. The muffled pounding of a stereo was coming from an upper window in the nearest house. A pungent smell of rotting rubbish came from the pile of bulging bin-bags just inside the broken gate.

Bill suddenly apparated in front of him and replied hastily. "Put your cloak away, Harry." As soon as he did so, he thrust a piece of parchment towards him. Harry took it and read the narrow and vaguely familiar writing.

 _ **The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.**_

"What is the Order of the-"

"Not here," Bill whispered urgently. "Wait till we're inside!" He pulled the piece of parchment out of Harry's hand and set fire to it with his wand tip. As the message curled into flames and floated to the ground, Harry looked around at the houses again. They were standing outside number eleven; he looked to the left and saw number ten; to the right, however, was number thirteen.

"But where's —?"

"Think about what you've just memorized," said Bill quietly. Harry thought, and no sooner had he reached the part about number twelve, Grimmauld Place, than a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way. Harry gaped at it. The stereo in number eleven thudded on. Apparently the Muggles inside had not even felt anything.

 _The Fidelius..._

Briefly wondering once again how he had actually cast a Fidelius all by himself, Harry walked up the worn stone steps, staring at the newly materialized door. Its black paint was shabby and scratched. The silver doorknocker was in the form of a twisted serpent. There was no keyhole or letterbox. Bill pulled out his wand and tapped the door once. Harry heard many loud, metallic clicks and something that sounded like the clatter of a chain. The door creaked open.

"Get in quick, Harry," Bill whispered. "But don't go far inside and don't touch anything."

Harry stepped in.


	4. Chapter 4 : The House of Black

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _ **The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.**_

 _"What is the Order of the-"_

 _"Not here," Bill whispered urgently. "Wait till we're inside!" He pulled the piece of parchment out of Harry's hand and set fire to it with his wand tip. As the message curled into flames and floated to the ground, Harry looked around at the houses again. They were standing outside number eleven; he looked to the left and saw number ten; to the right, however, was number thirteen._

 _"But where's —?"_

 _"Think about what you've just memorized," said Bill quietly. Harry thought, and no sooner had he reached the part about number twelve, Grimmauld Place, than a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way. Harry gaped at it. The stereo in number eleven thudded on. Apparently the Muggles inside had not even felt anything._

 _The Fidelius..._

 _Briefly wondering once again how he had actually cast a Fidelius all by himself, Harry walked up the worn stone steps, staring at the newly materialized door. Its black paint was shabby and scratched. The silver doorknocker was in the form of a twisted serpent. There was no keyhole or letterbox. Bill pulled out his wand and tapped the door once. Harry heard many loud, metallic clicks and something that sounded like the clatter of a chain. The door creaked open._

 _"Get in quick, Harry," Bill whispered. "But don't go far inside and don't touch anything."_

 _Harry stepped in._

* * *

Harry stepped over the threshold into the almost total darkness of the hall. He could smell damp, dust, and a sweetish, rotting smell; the place had the feeling of a derelict building. He heard a soft hissing noise and then old-fashioned gas lamps sputtered into life all along the walls, casting a flickering insubstantial light over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet of a long, gloomy hallway, where a cobwebby chandelier glimmered overhead and age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls. Harry heard something scuttling behind the baseboard. Both the chandelier and the candelabra on a rickety table nearby were shaped like serpents.

"The family does love snakes." He muttered to himself.

"Come along." Bill whispered, "And don't touch anything."

"Sure." Harry almost drawled. "Hey, what about my things and Hedwig?"

"Already here. The Order brought it from the House. You will be staying here for the rest of the summer."

Never thought there would be a day when I would miss staying in Privet Drive.

Harry glanced all around the place. Everywhere was cobwebs, and serpentine structures. For a moment, he wondered if this was some manor belonging to some of the death eaters, someone whom this Order might had defeated. He heard footsteps and turned back, only to be grasped in a tight hug by Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you! We thought we had lost you," she whispered, pulling him into another rib-cracking hug before holding him at arm's length and examining him critically. "You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid."

 _Mrs. Weasley and her feeding. No wonder Ron is the way he is._

Pause.

 _Hold on, since when did I get so sarcastic?_

"I'm all right, Mrs. Weasley. Just need some rest."

That seemed to do the trick. That and a melancholic face that he pulled off quite effortlessly. While he would not want the Dursleys dead or anything, but the fact that they died _did not_ conjure any sadness inside him. Was he growing heartless?

He pondered for a moment.

 _Nah._

* * *

He could see an entire group of wizards scrambling all around in a room next to the one he was in. He could even see Dumbledore, the silvery hair and beard was a dead giveaway. He thought of going up there and demanding answers, but then...When had the old man given him any direct answer? If anything, he had only hidden things from him.

He paused, smirking mentally. Time to pay back.

Perhaps Mrs. Weasley had misread his intentions and his body language; for she saw, his feet move towards the other room and spoke out, "No, Harry, the meeting is only for members of the Order. Ron and Hermione are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting is over and then we will have dinner. And keep your voice down in the hall," she added in an urgent whisper.

 _Why is everyone telling me to keep quiet when they themselves, are the ones who are actually talking?_

Past the moth-eaten curtains and the troll's leg, which was some kind of stand, he climbed up the rickety staircase to the upper floor. Harry's bewilderment deepened with every step he took. What on earth were they doing in a house that looked as though it belonged to the Darkest of wizards?

Harry crossed the dingy landing, turned the bedroom doorknob, which was shaped like a serpent's head, and opened the door. He caught a brief glimpse of a gloomy high-ceilinged, twin-bedded room. There was a loud twittering noise, followed by an even louder shriek, and his vision was completely obscured by a large quantity of very bushy hair — Hermione had thrown herself onto him in a hug that nearly knocked him flat, while Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, zoomed excitedly round and round their heads.

"HARRY! Ron, he's here, Harry's here! We did not hear you arrive! Oh, how _are_ you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless — but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got to tell us — the dementors!"

 _Of course._

"So," Harry began softly, though his voice carried a cold undercurrent of anger. "You two have been here, together."

The cold tone seemed to have taken her off-guard. Ron, like the oblivious boy he was, began by putting his foot in his mouth. "Of course, mate, we have been here since the beginning of the summer, and-" he began, holding his half-chewed sandwich in one hand.

"And when was I supposed to be brought in?"

Hermione swallowed. "After three weeks."

"Right."

"Come on, mate, we have got loads to tell you about, now that you are here. I bet you are sad about the muggles but it happens and," he paused, deciding that he had expressed enough sentiments, "let's have a game of chess before dinner. This place is boring and it is driving me barmy."

Hermione felt like shoving a brick into Ron's mouth. Harry however, seemed to evaluate his new situation with a curious but emotionless façade. "Right. So where is my room? I want some... privacy."

"Of course, Harry I will talk to Mrs. -"

"Why mate, you can live with me and-"

"Ron!" Hermione stressed. Ron stopped his tirade midway. "Yeah?"

"Harry needs some privacy at the moment." She cast him a 'do-not-question' look, shutting him up. She turned towards her other best friend. "Wait here, I will talk to Mrs. Weasley. Give me a minute."

"But the other rooms on the opposite corridor are empty!" Ron almost bellowed behind her. Harry almost snickered at his obliviousness.

"Where is Hedwig?" He asked, keeping his tone genial.

"In the owlery. Sirius has your trunk." Ron answered with a grin.

"Right."

 _So these two have been here, spending time with my godfather while I have been left to the jackals._

"So where are these empty rooms, you were talking about?"

Ron gestured towards the opposite corridor.

"Right. I am going to do some private exploration. I will-"

"I will help-" Ron began but Harry cut him off. "I will be fine, alone."

Ron stopped midway, shrugging as he went back to his sandwich.

* * *

"Harry?"

Harry turned behind, only to see his godfather standing at the edge of the staircase, beaming at him. Sirius instantly changed into Padfoot and leapt towards him, changing midway as he stood in front of him, grasping him in a bear hug. Harry could not help but feel bittersweet about it. Sweet because he was finally seeing his godfather after over a year. Bitter because his _friends_ had been spending time with his godfather while he was sulking at the Dursleys. He wondered if it was heartless of him that he was happy not to have to go back to the Dursleys anymore.

"It's wonderful to see you, Prongslet."

 _Prongslet?_

"Son of Prongs", Sirius explained at the question on Harry's face. "James was most insistent on naming you Prongslet when you were born, but Lily put her foot on it, and named you after her father."

"My... grandfather?"

"Yes. Your grandfather's name was Harry Jonathan Evans." Sirius explained. A slight sadness filled his face, something Sirius noticed. "Your aunt never told you anything, did she?"

Harry just looked at him expressionlessly.

"I'm sorry, Harry. Had I not made my mistake and run after Pettigrew-" Sirius began, but Harry stopped him. "It's okay, Sirius. Let's just put past where it is."

Sirius nodded.

"What is this place?" Harry asked, willing to change the conversation.

"This," Sirius paused, "is my home. Or rather, was my home."

"You lived here?" Harry asked in surprise.

"I lived here till I was sixteen. Then I escaped and lived with your father at your family manor. Speaking of which, I failed to ask you previously, have you taken up your Lordship?"

He stared at Sirius with a scrutinizing expression, "I did."

"Ah, that's better. I was wondering if the bumbling fool told you about your heritage or not." Sirius returned scathingly. It was obvious that the man did not hold Dumbledore in great regard.

 _Perhaps I can exploit that._

"So what is this place? Apart from your house, I mean."

"Oh, this is not my house, Harry." Sirius returned. "I and James lived in a two-bedroom apartment overlooking Diagon Alley. It is still there. After James and Lily got married, they moved to live in Potter Manor, but after it was destroyed by the Death eaters, they shifted to the Potter cottage in Godric's Hollow before..." Sirius stopped speaking, as if something constricted his voice. "I am really sorry, I failed you, Harry."

Clearly, Sirius had not taken his parent's deaths very well, Harry observed. Sirius continued. "We were talking about this place. This, Harry, is the Townhouse of the Ancient and Noble House of Black."

"Ancient and Noble House of Black." Harry muttered to himself. "So you are the-"

"Last living member and blood heir of the Black family. I never cared about my family, forget taking up its Lordship. I rebelled against the family ever since I was small. The family magic felt odd to me..."

 _Okay._

"But if you could take up the Lordship, surely it could help in getting you a proper trial, couldn't it?"

Sirius stared thoughtfully at him. Then, a sadness crept upon his face. "It wouldn't work."

"Why?"

"As I said, I rebelled against the family and the Black family magic ever since I was small. Even when in Hogwarts, I decided to shove a finger towards my family by joining Gryffindor. My family has been Slytherin since the last five centuries. It rubbed my mother the wrong way." He paused. "That said- I did try to take up Lordship, hoping it would give me a chance in trial, but the magic did not accept me. I am the blood heir, and until I pass the lordship officially to someone else, or I die, the family will not have another Lord Black."

"So don't you marry or something?"

"No one is going to marry a fugitive, Harry. Especially one who is notorious as the betrayer of the Potters and Voldemort's right hand man." Sirius gnashed his teeth. "Besides, staying in Azkaban has made that option unavailable, I'm afraid." Sirius flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So the Black line dies with you?"

Sirius stared at his godson for a moment. "No, Harry. I may be the blood heir, but there are other heirs too. Three actually. One is the Malfoy brat; he is descended from my cousin Narcissa. The other is my niece Nymphadora; she is descended from my elder cousin Andromeda."

Harry nodded.

"The third is you, my godson and descended from Great aunt Dorea, your grandmother."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I have Black blood in me?"

Sirius nodded. "I was intending on this to be a surprise, but given the conditions, I suppose it is better you know it from me. I have made you my heir. If you wish, you can take up the mantle of Lord of Black. You hold the Potter lordship already, Black would not be a problem. Plus, I think the previous Lord Black would have preferred you."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "The previous Lord Black?"

"Harry!"

Harry barely constrained his ability to control his emotions. He held his emotions in check. He was not going to let go and reveal his rage now, not even to his friends. His anger was like a simmering cauldron now—one small mistake and the entire thing would blow up in an explosion. He slowly turned his neck to the right as he gazed at his best friend.

"Yes, Hermione?"

For some reason, Hermione found his cold, hard gaze to be more than mildly intimidating. She swallowed. "Mrs. Weasley has told me that you and Ron are going to stay together."

"That's not required," Sirius spoke out, "I know exactly where you should stay." He raised his voice and yelled, "KREACHER!"

It was unlike any other elf he had ever seen. Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around its middle, it was completely naked. It looked very old. Its skin seemed to be several times too big for it. Though it was bald like all house-elves, there was a quantity of white hair growing out of its large, bat like ears. Its eyes were a bloodshot and watery gray, and its fleshy nose was large and rather snout like. The elf took absolutely no notice of Harry and the rest. Acting as though it could not see them, it shuffled hunchbacked, slowly and doggedly, toward the far end of the room, muttering under its breath all the while in a hoarse, deep voice like a bullfrog. "Smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, nasty old blood traitor Master with all the brats messing up my Mistress's house. Oh my poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do."

"Kreacher!" Sirius commanded.

"What can Kreacher do for blood traitor Master? Master ran away from home and broke Mistress' heart. Now Master comes back and orders Kreacher around. Master not fit to be the scum on Mistress' shoes..."

"Kreacher! I order you to stop."

Kreacher stopped. He stared at Harry with an uncomfortable expression before croaking. "What does Master want with Kreacher?"

Sirius cleared his throat. "This," he gripped Harry's left shoulder, "is Great Aunt Dorea's grandson. You do remember her, don't you?"

Kreacher looked at Harry with something like longing. "Mistress Dorea was so nice. She was Lord Black's favorite. Mistress Dorea being so nice to poor Kreacher, unlike filthy Master and his-"

"Right!" Sirius interrupted. "He is the next heir of Black, and will rule the family."

Kreacher stared incomprehensibly at Harry, who felt a bit uncomfortable at the way those bulgy eyes were staring at him. "Hello, err, Kreacher."

"Yous be the heir of Mistress Dorea?"

Harry nodded uncomfortably.

"Kreacher lives to serve the Ancient and Noble house of Black." Kreacher croaked, "Come with me, young Master. I will show you a room."

Harry turned back at Hermione and replied. "I guess I have a private place I needed."

"But Harry-"

"I will see you later, Hermione."

If Sirius thought that his godson was being cold, he did not point it out. Harry glanced at Sirius, who shrugged, before deciding to follow the demented elf who trudged slowly across the corridor, up the staircase on to the second floor. There on the left, were three rooms. The first one held the nameplate.

 **The Lord's Study. Do not enter without express permission of Lord Arcturus Sirius Black.**

"The previous Lord Black. My grandfather." Sirius explained, seeing the query in his eyes.

Harry nodded. The next room held no nameplate. The third one, though, held one. It wasn't a nameplate, but a command. The way was pompous, and reminded Harry of the not-so-likeable Weasley brother.

 **Do not enter without the express permission of Regulus Arcturus Black.**

"Regulus Arcturus Black." He muttered the words.

"My brother." Sirius exclaimed sadly. "He was a good one, but ultimately I lost him to Mother when I escaped this Hell to live with the Potters."

"Oh."

They moved over the threshold together, gazing around. Regulus's bedroom was impeccably clean, a contrast to the rest of the house. Clearly, Kreacher held Regulus in great regard. Regulus had striven to emphasize the Slytherin values. The Slytherin colors of emerald and silver were everywhere, draping the bed, the walls, and the windows. The Black family crest was painstakingly painted over the bed, along with its motto.

 **Toujours Pur.**

"Always pure." Harry muttered.

"Yes, my mother thought it was about purity of blood. She held those of lesser blood in great disdain." Sirius replied offhandedly.

"No." Harry spoke up automatically. "The original family of Blackmoor were practitioners of blood magic, something that flowed through the blood of their veins. The rule was to never teach anyone not of their blood about the intricate arts and secrets of their art. Hence, Toujours Pur."

Sirius looked sharply at him. "You are _very_ knowledgeable in family history, Harry. I didn't know that."

Harry shrugged, inwardly wondering how on earth had he known that. Leaving that string of thought, he looked all around. On the walls was a collection of yellow newspaper cuttings, all stuck together to make a ragged collage.

"They're all about Voldemort," he remarked. "Regulus seems to have been a fan for a few years before he joined the Death Eaters..." Sirius grunted but did not comment. A little puff of dust rose from the bedcovers as he sat down to read the clippings. Harry, meanwhile, had noticed another photograph; a Hogwarts Quidditch team was smiling and waving out of the frame. He moved closer and saw the snakes emblazoned on their chests: Slytherins. Regulus was instantly recognizable as the boy sitting in the middle of the front row: He had the same dark hair and slightly haughty look of his brother, though he was smaller, slighter, and rather less handsome than Sirius had been.

"He played Seeker," said Harry.

"Yes. He was surprisingly good at it." Sirius replied nostalgically. "Though he had got nothing on you."

Harry smirked.

"Will young master need anything?" Kreacher croaked.

Harry looked back at the demented elf. "No, thank you Kreacher. Though I would love it if you could bring my trunk and my owl here." Instantly, Kreacher popped out with a large crack, followed by another similar one, along with an irritated hoot from Hedwig who did not like the popping around at all. Harry lifted his trunk, and opened it.

All his clothes were gone.

Almost as if the elf had sensed his confusion, Kreacher answered. "They were being rags, young Master." Sirius stared at Harry and asked the elf. "What do you mean rags?"

"Young master's robes were tattered and torn. Young Master's robes not worthy of being worn by Heir of Ancient and Noble House of Black."

Sirius glanced back at Harry. "Where are your proper clothes?"

"I don't." answered Harry simply.

"What do you mean-" Sirius began, before the reality of the situation hit him. "Those bloody Dursleys-"

"Are dead. I do not need to return back any more."

"That may be, but you need robes of your own. Especially since you have taken up the mantle of Lord Potter."

Harry agreed amiably.

"Does this place have a library?"

"Why Harry, I would have mistaken you for your bushy-haired friend. From their conversations, you do not seem to be the studious type." Sirius teased.

"You learn to grow up when you have an insane dark lord baying for your blood."

Sirius's grin dissipated. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

"It's a fact, Sirius. I accept it that someday or the other, I will have to face the bastard and when I do, I want to have a chance to survive."

Sirius looked at him speculatively. "I think I can help you with that."

* * *

Down in the drawing room, the secretive group known as the Order of the Phoenix were having a _most serious_ discussion. In the enormous sprawling drawing room, which appeared much more cleaned than the rest of the building (with the exception of Regulus's room of course), sat a multitude of people. On one side, sat Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks and Bill Weasley. In the centre on the couch, sat Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Mad-eye Moody and two bald-headed, old men. The rest of the people sat on the other side, with Mundungus Fletcher lying like a rag on one end.

A rush of sound was heard as Dumbledore and Snape entered the room. The rest of the order stood up in unison as a mark of respect for the old Headmaster and the leader of the group. Snape stood in the shadows beside the Headmaster, a sneer floating on his lips.

"Let's begin the meeting of the Order." Dumbledore proposed.

"As you all know," Dumbledore began, "there was a rogue Dementor attack on Privet Drive, which killed Harry's aunt and uncle. As I am told, William was the one to find Harry and brought him here to safety. From now, he will be staying here. It is imperative that he is kept out of the happenings of the Order."

"But Headmaster, Harry has-" Lupin began, but Dumbledore interrupted. "I do not negate the fact that Harry has had done many impossible tasks till date. However, he is a child and this war doesn't belong to him yet." His tone left no angle for complain or argument.

"Now that we are finished with the brat, let us get down to business." Snape sneered.

"Right," Dumbledore began, "so anyone who has heard of any developments please share..."

* * *

"So this is the notorious Black library?" Harry wondered with awe at some of the tomes in front of him. There in front of him, stood shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes that promised powerful magic.

"This is only the outer part of the library. While I am sure you would enjoy it here, I believe I have a better idea at hand." Sirius pointed out at a dusty pedestal on which a single fat tome was kept. Surprisingly, this particular tome was completely dust free.

"The Black family grimoire." Sirius explained. "My Grandfather spent decades working on assimilating the entire contents of the Family library into this tome. It has the ability to provide information from the library that is _desired_ by the reader, obviously someone of Black blood. Fortunately or unfortunately, this grimoire can only be handled by the Lord or the heir of the family."

Sirius gingerly held the tome in his hand, the magic judging him, and once it found him worthy, the book automatically lifted up as he lifted his arm towards Harry. "Try to hold it. If the family magic judges you worthy, you can read it. Else, you won't even be able to hold it."

Narrowing his eyes, he gingerly held the tome, which lay on Sirius' palm, seemingly weightless. The moment he touched it, an immense pressure of magic pressed down upon him, almost constricting his breath for a second. Magic which was cold, intimidating and Black as its name. The magic held him almost incapacitated for a moment before it gently caressed his skin, as the book lifted up with his palm.

"Congratulations, godson. You are officially in position to be Lord Black." Sirius looked half-amused and half-exhilarated. "The family magic loves power, and you have a ton of it. It was almost a given." He held out his right hand, and extracted a signet ring from the ring finger, holding it out to him. "This is yours, for now. If we get the opportunity, I should like to take you to Gringotts myself and see your ascension as my heir and the Lord of Black. I might as well get a laugh out of it, seeing Lucius Malfoy rage in frustration. On that point, I suppose Dumbledore would be frustrated as well."

Harry looked curiously at his godfather, as he wore the ring on his ring finger. It slid in comfortably and fused with the Potter signet ring.

"Dumbledore has been giving me little hints and ideas about how it would be a great idea to donate the family's resources for the war effort. For the record, since I am your legal guardian, he suggested that I should allow him considerable sway and powers to utilize the Potter wealth in funding the Order." Sirius grit his teeth in annoyance. "The old coot had the balls to even suggest that James and Lily would be happy over it."

Harry's fingers twitched as they circled around his wand. The yew wand shot out angry sparks of purple as he tried his best to reign over his emotions. Sirius looked down at the wand in his hand. "That's different. Hey, hold on, that is not your wand. What happened to yours?"

Harry sighed. "It's a long story."

"I am all ears."

* * *

 **Thirty minutes later...**

Sirius Black was confused. He wasn't sure if he should be feeling anger (at Dumbledore's behavior and stupid decisions regarding Harry) or hate (about how Harry had been suffering all this years and kept ignorant of his heritage) or prideful (about Harry's wandless powers and now the family wand) or concerned (about the whole Fidelius and secret-keeper mystery). Finally, he gripped his godson's shoulder and gave him a bear hug.

"Whatever you do, I am always with you. Just remember that. I may be confined to this house for the rest of my life, but I would be damned if I wouldn't help you out of this mess." He paused as he let out a sigh. "You were right, Prongslet. You need to learn. You need to survive. And the Black Magic will help you do that. That reminds me, you will have a Family Grimoire in the Potter Family Vault as well. The next time, you go to Gringotts, make sure to get it with you. Charlus had done the same thing with the Potter family library."

Harry raised his eyebrows at the coincidence. Sirius deciphered his expression and laughed. "My grandfather and yours were very good friends. In fact, both of them fought alongside each other against Grindelwald. Great Aunt Dorea told me many tales about them when I lived with the Potters."

"I would love to hear some." Harry smiled.

"Sure you would, but for now. Get some rest. I will tell Kreacher to open the Lord's study for you. You can study there in peace. In the meantime, I will get that demented elf to buy some robes worthy of your station for you. Is there something you would like to eat?"

Harry's stomach growled loudly.

Sirius smirked.

"I suppose you should get dinner first. Treats later." He turned back as he walked out of the door, leaving Harry alone in Regulus's room.

Harry held his wand up and looked at it with fascination for the first time. The wood was yew. Thirteen and a third inches long. The wand was tapered at the end, spiraling all the way from the hilt. The hilt was carved of ivory and had the miniature engraving of a thestral on one end.

"Thestral." He muttered to himself.

Unknown to the rest of the world and even himself, his eyes glowed a powerful stormy gray.


	5. Chapter 5 : Friendships and complexities

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _Kreacher stared incomprehensibly at Harry, who felt a bit uncomfortable at the way those bulgy eyes were staring at him. "Hello, err, Kreacher."_

 _"Yous be the heir of Mistress Dorea?"_

 _Harry nodded uncomfortably._

 _"Kreacher lives to serve the Ancient and Noble house of Black." Kreacher croaked, "Come with me, young Master. I will show you a room."_

 _Harry turned back at Hermione and replied. "I guess I have a private place I needed."_

 _"But Harry-"_

 _"I will see you later, Hermione."_

* * *

Hermione couldn't help but stare in confusion (and a little bit of resentment) at Harry's cold attitude. While she knew that Harry had complete right to be a bit angry, it was now affecting her nerves. Most importantly, it was his cold and aloof attitude that had thrown her off. She had expected him to come upstairs, take a deep breath and then begin yelling out all of his anger and resentment out to her and Ron. That was even justified. She could handle such a Harry, for he was quick to forgive. It was one of the very traits, which endeared her to him.

This Harry however, was different. He had not yelled, he had not shouted out his feelings at him. He had tightly stoppered them deep within himself, and for anyone who could see, Harry's anger was like a pressure cooker, just about to release steam but firmly in control by the lid on it. He had not even said one harsh word, though to be honest, his cold attitude hurt deeper than his words would have been. Not that Hermione would mind, it was for the Greater Good after all. The Headmaster had informed her and Ron how contacting Harry would be a security risk, now that Voldemort was back. Why couldn't her best friend understand such a simple thing?

Hermione knew she was smart. She had always been. She had noticed the clenched-teeth expression that Sirius had tried to hide from everyone else. Not from her though, for she had noticed. Every now and then, Sirius had a frown on his face whenever the Headmaster had assigned a new order for them to follow. The older man had been very persistent in trying to convince the Headmaster to bring Harry here, though the Headmaster had cited security reasons and something related to 'blood wards', which had temporarily shut him up. Besides, given how Mrs. Weasley had been prodding up and down, all around the house, ordering everyone to work according her orders for the 'Clean the Black Townhouse' Campaign, not unlike some giant mother-hen (not that Hermione would ever admit it in public), it was almost guaranteed that Sirius Black was going to lose his fuse sooner or later. Hermione wondered what the outcome of the situation would be. She knew that the twins, Ginny and the rest of the Weasley brothers (except Ron, of course) knew that as a fact and knowing the twins, they had perhaps even started betting over it. However, with the surprise attack on Privet Drive and Harry's sudden arrival at this grim old place had shaken things up a bit. It certainly had shaken things up with Harry.

A part of her felt deeply for her best friend. She was happy that Harry was here. She had seen the cold rage in his eyes when their mutual oblivious best friend had outright mentioned how he and Hermione had been there since the beginning of summer. While she was not happy about how Harry was behaving with her and Ron, she was happy that Harry was finally living with his godfather. The poor boy had only one person he could call family, and she was happy that he was finally getting the life he deserved.

But... and there was indeed a 'But'. While it was not commonly known to all, but the Headmaster had actually acknowledged that both Ron and Hermione were vital for the Order, albeit privately. He had mentioned how Harry shared a kind of mental connection with Voldemort, and much more. After all, there was a _valid_ reason why she had consented to providing information about her best friend's mental condition and social behavior to Dumbledore. It had all happened two days after she had arrived at the Black Townhouse.

" **Ah, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, please come in." The esteemed Headmaster looked at Mrs. Weasley who had just ushered both of them inside the room. "Molly, thank you for bringing them in. I have something private to discuss with both of them."**

" **Of course, Headmaster." Molly nodded and walked out of the room briskly, giving one last glance at the two of them. The moment she had deserted the room, the Headmaster took out his wand and whipped it around, as a huge dome of silvery light formed all around them. Noticing the looks on their faces, he hastily explained, "Privacy ward. Wouldn't want someone to eavesdrop, would we?"**

 **Ron gave him an easy-going grin. Hermione looked focused.**

" **There is a matter of great discretion and importance that I want to share with you. I want you to understand that I am breaking a lot of confidences by bringing you inside the secret. I need to know if you can be trusted with keeping your end of the stick."**

" **Of course, Professor." Ron stated- his chest pulled up a few inches.**

" **As you know, the secret group known as the Order of the Phoenix that has been raised to fight against Voldemort and his followers is the last line of defense that Britain has against Voldemort. With the way the Ministry is trying to negate the truth, it is an uphill battle already. I know that both of you are students, no matter how talented, are only that- students. However, desperate situations call for desperate measures, which is why I Albus Dumbledore, want to bring you into the Order of the Phoenix as intelligence gathering members. Of course, if you wish to, in the first place."**

 **Ron looked like a kid who had just been promised his favorite stuffed toy, while Hermione beamed at the Headmaster. "Of course, professor. It is an honor, an honor that you thought us to be of some aid to you, though I wonder what we could possibly-"**

 **Dumbledore raised both of his palms to satiate their eagerness, and continued. "I understand your eagerness, Miss Granger, but I am afraid that you would negate helping me once you know what the matter is."**

 **Hermione looked at him with narrowed eyes, trying to decipher what the Headmaster was trying to hint at. He continued, "Both of you have been the best friends that young Harry could dream of, and I am glad that the poor boy has found such great friends as the two of you had been." Ron looked like he had already grown a couple of inches with the statement, though Hermione could not be sure of the statement, what with the way their friendship had suffered because of the misunderstanding on Halloween about Harry's participation of the Triwizard.**

" **What I am going to reveal must stay within the two of you, for it is an important secret, one which if in wrong hands, could spell disaster for Britain." Dumbledore continued in a slightly lower voice. Understandably, Hermione felt her curiosity piqued.**

" **What do you know about Harry's scar?"**

" **It was the place where You-know-who hit him with the killing-" Ron began, but he noticed Hermione glaring daggers at him, and changed track, "—but I will let Hermione explain the rest. She is better with explanations and stuff."**

" **Thank you, Ron." Hermione's gratitude seemed a little forced, but the Headmaster did not comment. Hermione cleared her throat and continued. "We know that he got the scar from the night at Halloween, though I have read that the killing curse gave him the scar. Though," she hesitated a bit before continuing, "I did read quite a bit about the Unforgivables after Moody, I mean, after Barty Crouch Junior taught us about them, and the killing curse isn't supposed to leave any residue or scar."**

 **Dumbledore nodded understandingly.**

" **Apart from that, Harry had pains in his scar with Professor Quirrel around in first year, though perhaps that was due to Volde-" Her eyes widened as the revelation shook her. "Professor, are you telling me that his scar reacts because of Voldemort, and now that he is back, it will react more?"**

" **Very astute, Miss Granger, though I am afraid that is not all." Dumbledore supplied. "That scar contains some magical residue from the dark magic that Voldemort, magic that Voldemort can use to subtly bring about changes in Harry's mental condition and behavior."**

 **Hermione's eyes turned into saucers. "Professor, are you saying that he can manipulate and affect Harry and push him towards the dark?"**

" **Yes, and No." Dumbledore answered, shaking his head. "Voldemort is very skilled in the mind arts, even much more than I. He can influence him, shift his personality, play with his emotions and drive him towards the dark. He can manipulate Harry to an extent that Harry might consider the two of you as his enemies instead of friends." Ron gasped at the revelation, but Dumbledore continued. "Do you now understand how essential it is that all of this must be kept secret?"**

 **Both of the teens nodded in unison.**

 **Dumbledore now spoke in a cold monotone. "Harry will be brought here some three weeks from now. It is imperative that you do not share any news about the Order or about whatever you are doing with him. We do not have any idea how much Voldemort has branched into his mind. Any information that you provide could be used against us. I hope I made it clear how dangerous the times are?"**

 **Ron looked pale. Hermione swallowed.**

" **When Harry comes to live in with you, I wish that both of you subtly notice the changes that happen or have happened to him and bring it to my notice. I understand that it will be difficult for the two of you to spy on your best friend, but you must understand that it is for his own good."**

 **Dumbledore paused. He could see them in deep thought.**

" **Of course, I will see to it that none of your efforts go in vain. I understand and value your contributions for Magical Britain, and I will make sure to try and repay a little part of it back in due time."**

 **Both of the teens nodded.**

" **I hereby grant you access to my office anytime, Miss Granger and Mister Weasley. As far as the summer is concerned, I will arrange some private meetings so that the two of you can safely inform me about the developments without anyone being the wiser."**

 **Hermione and Ron nodded in unison.**

The two best friends had since then, had made brief conversations with Sirius at times, trying to decipher whether he had actually been in touch with Harry keeping everyone else out of the loop, but it seemed that the older man had followed Dumbledore's suggestions and made no contact with his godson. Sure, the man looked like he would like nothing better than to punch Dumbledore in the face at times, but at least he was sensible to follow the rules, which the Headmaster had insisted, for the sake of the Greater Good.

Now... Harry had come to Grimmauld Place, and Dumbledore's words were already fulfilling themselves. It was almost prophetic. His changed behavior. His coldness, his simmering rage held within tight leash, his attitude regarding the two of them. It was almost shocking. If not for the fact that the Headmaster had previously informed them about such possibilities, she was sure that she would have run first thing, reported about the irregularities, and raised suspicion about something being wrong about Harry Potter.

The problem was- she did not know what was scarier. The fact that she knew that Harry was changing, or the true reason behind the change. One thing was clear- to help Harry; she would have to trust the Headmaster's decisions to the Tee. It would hurt her best friend, but it would be for her own good.

* * *

Harry got up from the cozy little couch he had been sitting on for the last one hour. The Lord's study was an excellent place; he had to give it to the old elf. No matter how dingy the frontage and the rest of the townhouse was, Regulus's room and the Lord's study were in pristine condition. No one who stayed inside this room could ever believe that the rest of the House was as filthy as it was. For one, the Lord's study came with an inbuilt silencing rune system, preventing noises from outside disturbing the Lord from his business. There was also a powerful blood-based proximity ward and an intent-based protection ward, providing the Lord with a considerable amount of protection when he was inside the room. There was also a time-dilation rune, that slowed down the passage of time by a little bit. Forty minutes in real time was one hour inside the room, Harry mused that it was to enable the Lord to focus on his private business for longer periods. In his excitement at finally getting his hand at such intricate and ancient tomes, he failed to realize that he had not taken up runes in his third year and above, and perhaps more importantly, that he had not even read anything about normal wards, forget their types and their mode of functioning.

The Black magic was different from the standard spells that were taught at Hogwarts. Instead of one or two word long incantations, the ones here were significantly larger and more difficult to ascertain. On the other side, the magics invoked and utilized in these were much more powerful, deadly and archaic than anything he had ever set his eyes upon. He was just reading a powerful offensive spell that was based on illusions when he realized that someone who had previously read the book wrote the Arithmancy behind the spell by hand.

"The third dimensional matrix of the spell can be folded into two spectral forms using Maximo's Rule of multiplicity, but then what about the limitations that the new form would generate?"

"The limitations could be cancelled out if one applied Weiss's interpolation techniques." A very familiar voice answered.

Harry looked up and found Sirius standing at the doorway, holding a tray of food. "Sorry about this," he exclaimed, "Kreacher took some time. He was downright adamant that it was his kitchen and he would prepare food for the heir of Black. It took me quite some time to disburse the impeding battle between Molly and Kreacher over the kitchen."

"It's okay." Harry shrugged, as Sirius entered the room. The wards gave him a slight tinge, telling him that someone of his blood had just entered the premises.

"Did you feel it?"

"The ward? Yes, I did."

Sirius grinned. "I am not sure if I should congratulate you, but the Black family magic has accepted you as the next oncoming Lord of Black."

Harry shrugged.

Sirius walked up to him and looked at the spell. "Illusion-based offensive battle techniques. Aren't we ambitious?"

Harry grinned. "Was just looking at the spells. This one caught my attention."

"I thought you took Divination for your electives. Or at least, that is what Moony told me."

Harry shrugged. "It's one of those things about which I know but I do not know how I know."

Sirius looked perturbed. "What does the mind healer say about this?"

"He thinks that something happened to me when I was hit by the killing curse." Sirius gasped at the statement but did not comment. "Apparently, this might be the very thing. I know things that I should not. I apparently cast a Fidelius and undid my own memories, though for the life of me, I don't understand why or how."

"Perhaps something terrible had happened. Alternatively, perhaps you had done something very _special_ , and did not want anyone, not even yourself to know that you did it. It would make a very good prank though." Sirius gave a marauder-ish grin and Harry laughed.

"Only you, Sirius." His smile faded away. "I cannot complain since it has only made my mind clearer than it ever was. My scar is not paining anymore. My vision is slightly better, though I want to move to wizarding contacts. My glasses are too much of a liability."

"Did you ever have your eyes checked?"

"Unwanted Freak over here, remember?" Harry spoke automatically as Sirius hissed in fury. Instantly, he gripped Sirius's hands and pressed. "It is okay, Sirius. It's over for now."

"No, it's not. You will get the life you deserve to be. First thing tomorrow morning, you and I are going to get some shopping and checkup done on you. Then, we visit Gringotts and you take up the Black lordship. Then, we get some nice splendid meal at some fine restaurant, with a nice bottle of firewhiskey."

"I am underage." Harry pointed out slyly.

"Stop being a spoilsport, godson. "Sirius snapped good-naturedly. "A Lordship demands a real drink. Firewhiskey it is. You should be lucky I am not taking you to a brothel and-"

Harry put his fingers into his ears. "Stop mentally scarring me for life, Sirius."

Sirius smirked.

"Dumbledore isn't going to like it." Harry replied in mock warning.

"The old coot can go fuck with his goats." Sirius declared. "Have your dinner first. Then, we need to talk about something."

* * *

 **Thirty Minutes later...**

"So the Order of the Phoenix..." Harry began.

"More like fried chicken." Sirius muttered, and Harry chortled. "Right, so this Order is guarding something. Good to know that it actually does something more than watching me pee at the Dursleys."

Sirius snorted. "How did you know about-wait, Bill told you, didn't he?"

Harry laughed and nodded.

"Yes, Dumbledore has arranged shifts and schedules, and is making 'Order members'", he gestured with his fingers, "—watch the boy wonder at his muggle home. He has also arranged a similar shift at the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic."

"Department of Mysteries?"

"Yes, they are secretive bunch. Quite autonomous as far as it goes. The people who work there are known as Unspeakables, and they work on, well... unspeakable things I guess?" Sirius passed a small grin. "James and I used to make lewd jokes about the unspeakable deeds of the Unspeakables."

"What do you think the Order is guarding?"

Sirius hesitated for a moment. "The official word is that they are guarding a weapon. Something that Voldemort wants. Something that he didn't have the last time."

Harry pondered over the statement. His eyes then glanced at Sirius. "What are your thoughts about it?"

Sirius seemed bitter. "It's just a big sack of hippogriff shit. I have seen Voldemort fight. I have fought alongside James and Lily against him. He does not need a weapon. Not then, not now."

"So the word is a metaphor."

"I think so."

"Interesting." Harry pondered over it.

"You have got the same look on your face like Lily did when she was engaged in some deep thought." Sirius commented offhandedly. Harry flushed. It felt good to know that he was like his parents in some way.

"I have a suspicion of what it might be about, though." Sirius suddenly remarked. "Of course, I might be completely wrong."

"Let's hear it."

"During the last war, we all were in the main fight against Voldemort and the Death eaters. Then suddenly, James and Lily went into hiding, and all but forced me to do the same. Frank Longbottom and his wife Alice, you would know their son Neville-" Harry nodded as Sirius continued, "—well we all went into hiding, but it kind of irked me. The way James and Frank both decided to hide, it was almost too strange to be a coincidence. And then, Voldemort attacked the Potters while two days after his death, Bellatrix and her brood attacked the Longbottoms."

"You think that there was some special reason why my dad and Neville's suddenly decided to go into hiding. A special reason why Voldemort was so fixated on killing me. I remember the night." Harry's eyes went glassy. "My dad... he tried to divert Voldemort, allowing mum to escape with me. Voldemort killed him and then went for me. Not Mum, but me. My mum wanted him to spare my life and take hers, but he would not listen. In fact, now that I think about it, it was almost odd." He looked into Sirius' eyes, which were brimming with tears, "My mum was muggleborn and yet the bastard seemed more fixated on killing me than my mum."

Sirius's face was a masterpiece. One single face, demonstrating the wide variety of emotions. There was surprise, shock, hatred, sorrow, vengeance and finally... surprise as the answer presented itself to him. Coincidentally, Harry had reached a similar answer on his own. "What if there was a-" he began, but Sirius cut him off.

"A bloody prophecy!"

* * *

 **Meanwhile in another room,**

"Dad, I need to discuss something private with you." Bill declared, attracting the attention of his father, and importantly, his mother. Mrs. Weasley, being the person she was, instantly delved into the topic. "Say it here, Bill. Surely I can listen to whatever is troubling you, can't I?"

Bill flushed, not sure how to divert his mother's attention. He had wanted a one-on-one talk with his father, but things were not going in his favor. Fortunately, his father seemed to understand his predicament and rose. "I suppose it is a male thing, son?"

Bill flushed. He had not expected his dad to understand, _and_ come out with a wonderful way to divert his mother's attention away from them. He nodded briskly, as he saw his mother blush and turn away to talk to Ginny. Arthur walked out of the room and Bill followed swiftly.

The moment he was out of their proximity range, he whispered as a powerful privacy ward materialized like a dome all around them. "Dad, I wanted to ask you about Harry."

Arthur's countenance instantly shifted. "What about him?"

"Did you know that he was ignorant of his heritage?"

For the first time, Bill saw his dad look guilty and sad. "I admit I did. In fact, when he saved Ginny's life in her first year, I wanted to uphold a life debt and help him to learn all about his heritage. It would not fulfill the condition of the debt per se but it would be something."

"So why didn't you?"

Arthur paused, reflecting on the question for a moment. "Dumbledore prevailed on us. He brought it to our notice that Harry already had a lot of things to deal with. He said that learning about his heritage would only bring undue workload on the boy's shoulders, and Molly, well she agreed. You know how your mother feels about children."

Bill gave him a blank stare. "Harry now knows about his heritage. As of now, he is Lord Potter. When we talked about his lack of knowledge about his heritage, he looked bitter. I presume you can well imagine whom his bitterness was directed towards."

"Good Lord," Arthur swore, "he must think that we intentionally kept him in the dark." He looked at Bill with widened, anxious eyes. "I swear to you, Bill, we only did what we did because Dumbledore advised us. Besides, Dumbledore's his guardian and-"

"Not anymore. Harry is Lord Potter and is his own person. Dumbledore holds no sway over him, legally that is; assuming he held one on the first hand."

"But Dumbledore said that he was Harry's magical guardian-"

"Only in matters of Hogwarts. For everything else, including financial matters, Sirius Black was Harry's guardian. After all, he is his godfather."

"Merlin, the boy must think badly of us." Arthur moaned.

"It's not too late", Bill surmised. "I will talk to Harry, but the rest is up to you, Dad."

"Thank you son," Arthur whispered, gripping his son's shoulders, "you have shown me light in the dark. It's moments like this which prove why you are _the_ heir."

Bill grinned.


	6. Chapter 6 : An awesome prank

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _"You think that there was some special reason why my dad and Neville's suddenly decided to go into hiding. A special reason why Voldemort was so fixated on killing me. I remember the night." Harry's eyes went glassy. "My dad... he tried to divert Voldemort, allowing mum to escape with me. Voldemort killed him and then went for me. Not Mum, but me. My mum wanted him to spare my life and take hers, but he would not listen. In fact, now that I think about it, it was almost odd." He looked into Sirius' eyes, which were brimming with tears, "My mum was muggleborn and yet the bastard seemed more fixated on killing me than my mum."_

 _Sirius's face was a masterpiece. One single face, demonstrating the wide variety of emotions. There was surprise, shock, hatred, sorrow, vengeance and finally... surprise as the answer presented itself to him. Coincidentally, Harry had reached a similar answer on his own. "What if there was a-" he began, but Sirius cut him off._

 _"A bloody prophecy!"_

* * *

 **The next morning...**

It almost felt like ages that Harry had had a proper sleep. For some reason, the nightmares had stopped traumatizing him. Instead, he had passed into a dreamless sleep, completely at rest and oblivious to the happenings of the outside world.

"Harry!"

"Harry!"

He looked up with groggy eyes, to find his godfather shaking his arm slowly. "Wake up!"

"Huh?"

"We need to leave, remember?"

His glance darted towards the clock. "Its five am in the morning." He sat up, and rubbed his eyes.

"Of course, my bad," Sirius countered saucily, "We should just get out at eleven, have some breakfast from Molly and then say Hi to everyone and let them know we are going shopping. Who knows, even Molly would perhaps send us to buy some veggies for her? Right? What was I thinking?"

Harry flushed with embarrassment. "All right, you have made your point. Give me ten minutes." He got off the covers and ran for the shower, leaving Sirius to his trinkets. Ten minutes later, he still found the older animagus sitting on the bed, waving his wand over a piece of parchment and muttering something under his breath.

"What are you doing?" He asked out of curiosity.

"Oh, that?" Sirius deadpanned, "that is a prank."

"A... _prank_?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, of course," Sirius grinned cheerfully. Harry rolled his eyes.

After five more minutes, Sirius was done. He conjured a long piece of string, tied it to one end of the parchment, and put the parchment into a conjured envelope, muttering some enchantments on it. Then, he went towards the door and locked it with a powerful locking charm, and set a proximity trigger to it.

"Just one last thing and I am afraid I need your help for it." Sirius looked at him with a scary smile. Harry gulped.

* * *

 **Some hours later...**

Molly climbed up the rickety stairs towards the Lord's study. The bloody mansion had too many stairs, according to her. She crossed the troll's leg stand, crossed the double corridors that led to the room Harry was staying in, and entered into the tiny hallway. Why could not he room up with her little Ronnie was beyond her. It was true that Ronnie had had a bout of jealousy and misunderstanding, but then Harry had forgiven him. Yes, it was a fact that this was Sirius's house, she thought with a frown, and Harry was his godson and everything, but it did not mean that Black would enable him to stay away from his friends. They were his friends after all. In dark times such as this, friends were exactly what Harry needed. Moreover, the Black House was home to the darkest of wizards. She feared that Sirius would be a bad influence on the boy she had come to look upon as her own son. Little Ginny had had a crush on him, and momentarily, she let herself dream a little about a big, happy Weasley family where Harry would marry Ginny and Ron would settle down with Hermione. The bushy-haired girl was very enthusiastic, and passionate, perhaps her vigor would be a positive influence on Ron. Smiling at her mental image, she walked up to the door.

She ignored the pompous message on the nameplate and knocked the door. It was almost ten and Harry had yet to come down. For the matter of fact, she hadn't yet seen Sirius down in the drawing room too. The house was too big, too hideous and had too many rooms and corridors for her liking, enough for someone innocent and naïve to get lost and not be found for a long time.

Knock.

No reply.

"Harry?"

"Please don't come in, I am working on something private." Harry yelled.

 _Strange!_

"But have your breakfast, at least." She yelled back.

"Already had, Kreacher made it."

"All right." Molly nodded her head and muttered something under her breath. "Call me if you need anything!" she yelled back.

No answer.

"Teenagers." She muttered under her breath, as she walked down the rickety old stairs.

* * *

 **A few hours earlier in Diagon Alley...**

Harry snorted. "You actually enchanted a howler to answer for any question asked by someone standing outside the room?"

Sirius shrugged. "Had to create a diversion, didn't I? What's better than a little misdirection?" He grinned. Harry mock-bowed to him. "You win, Prank Master Black."

"Actually, I prefer Prank Lord," he gave a fake sneer, "Prank Lord Padfoot." He pointed towards the direction of the white edifice that was Gringotts. "To business, first."

The two of them entered into the pristine hallways of Gringotts, past the guards on the courtyard outside. Gringotts understood the importance of privacy and hence had no qualms about letting witches and wizards keep their glamour on. Sirius had long, blonde hair tight up to his shoulders with a pale, chiseled face, completely different from what he looked originally. Harry had simply changed the color of his hair to chestnut brown and made his face a little square-ish. Together, the two wizards made their way to the nearest goblin teller.

"How come Gringotts is open this early?"

"They are goblins, godson. They are greedy." Sirius explained.

"For gold?"

"For hoarding gold."

"What's the difference?"

"Goblins have two main ambitions. The first is to become accomplished masters in forging- artifacts, weapons, jewellery, name your choice. Anything that can be forged, they do it. The more beautiful, powerful and intricate, the more is the goblin's sense of pride in it. Goblin-forged weapons are the strongest, goblin-made jewellery are the costliest and goblin-made artifacts are the most sought after."

"What's the other?"

"Hoarding gold. They have huge workforces that work in the mines, extracting gold, purifying it, casting it into nuggets and later converting them into galleons. Worse than a niffler, they are. The original goblin wars were because they had looted all the wizarding gold and taken them away into their caves. Took wizards a long waged war to get it back, involving a large loss on either side. Almost two thousand years ago, the statute of cooperation was framed between wizards and goblins, ending the war and leading to the establishment of Gringotts. The goblins got to horde the gold in their vaults, while wizards got security of their wealth. Everyone went home happy."

Harry chortled. "So that was how Gringotts was established?"

"Yeah, back to your question. Since the goblins are now bankers and given their love of gold, every single moment that was not spent in increasing gold is considered a waste of time. Hence, Gringotts is open every time, every day. The goblins work in shifts, providing customer service all day and night."

"Thanks for the history lesson, Sirius. Binns does not teach any of this. I would have actually stayed up awake had he taught any of this."

Sirius's face darkened. "My grandfather had a suspicion why Dumbledore allowed Binns to simply do what he has been doing all these decades. According to him, it was all part of a conspiracy."

Harry's face glowed with interest.

"Something I will share with you on a later date." Sirius finished much to Harry's disappointment. "Come now, business first."

They stood in front of the teller as Sirius spoke in a low but clear voice. "I want an appointment with Axleblade, manager of the Black accounts."

"Axleblade doesn't entertain guests for trivial matters." The goblin replied snappishly.

"He has, for those of the blood." Sirius gave the goblin a meaningful stare. The teller paused for a moment before he slowly replied. "I suppose he might have." He picked up a tiny bell and rung it. A younger-looking goblin came running in, instantly.

"Snarktooth will take you to Axleblade. Gringotts hopes you have a good day of business."

"Thank you, I wish you get to horde the gold you so love." Sirius wished back as he and Harry departed alongside the younger goblin.

* * *

 **Sometime later...**

"Mister Black, what you are asking for isn't something common. Are you sure you want to go through this course of action?" Axleblade, the old-looking goblin seated on the other side of the table, remarked.

Sirius nodded slowly. "On event of my untimely death, the Lordship shall pass to Harry James Potter," he nodded towards his godson who simply sat still, observing the situation. "However, since I am the blood heir, without my will, the Black family magic will not fuse properly with him, since him and me, as unfortunate as that is, do not share blood."

Harry glanced at him but said nothing. Sirius continued. "In order to promote complete transference of magic, powers, wealth and privileges as the rightful Lord of Black, I insist on a blood-adoption of Lord Harry James Potter, into the Ancient and most House of Black."

"Sirius, this-" Harry tried, but could not figure out what to say. The blood adoption thing had been completely new and out of the plan. Sirius had not revealed that part of his plan.

"All in good time, Harry." Sirius interrupted sweetly but Harry understood the meaning between the lines.

 _Keep quiet and just go with the flow._

"If that is what you wish, Heir Black." Axleblade took out a ritual bowl, and a white sacrificial dagger. Then, he handed the dagger to Sirius and nodded. "You know what to do."

Sirius nodded and slashed his palm open with the dagger, blood oozing out of it in flows. He closed his fist and let some of the blood trickle down and fall on to the bowl, which started to glow with some kind of ethereal glow.

" **Exaudi orationem meam..."** he chanted, **"Familia magicum."**

Instantly, bright dazzling flames lit up from the ritual bowl, engulfing his bloodied fist, but the fire seemed to do no harm to him. The crimson flames changed color, into black, as black as the family name.

" **Quos ego placabo hostiis Meis** **"** , he paused, **"eligere novum rex vester".** He paused as he stared at Harry for a moment, **"Harry James Potter."**

Instantly the fire became white for a moment as Sirius took his now healed fist out, and beckoned at Harry. Harry took the dagger, slashed his palm, and then thrust it into the white flames, which rose to engulf it whole.

"I, Harry James Potter, by blood, by oath and by magic, take over the powers and responsibilities of the House of Black and its ambient magics. As I will it, so mote it be."

The flames changed their nature to black again as harry felt something sir deep inside him. It rose and fell, churning like the waves of the ocean, boiling, bubbling, and eager to resurface at his command. Magic as versatile as the water, shifting its form as its bearer desired, and yet powerful enough to smash the mountains into nothing but dust with the passage of time. The Black magic, coiling all around protectively like a snake, and yet cold and intimidating to its enemies.

The flames receded and Harry found a large, beautiful signet ring on his ring finger, just above where the Potter signet ring lay. Unlike the Potter ring, which had a golden capstone and had a gryffin on top, The Black capstone was created of obsidian and had an adder engraved on the surface of it.

"I pronounce thee, Harry James, Lord of Black." Axleblade declared, much to Sirius' glee and his bemusement.

* * *

"So, I am Lord Potter-Black now?" Harry asked casually.

"Why on earth would you want to call yourself that, godson?" Sirius replied cheerfully as they walked down the main street down Gringotts and stepped into Diagon Alley. It was still early morning and most of the shops were still closed.

"Then?"

"Harry Potter you are, Harry Potter you shall remain. The Lord of Potter and Black thing is only useful for the Wizengamot purposes, which thankfully, is ages far from now. At least not until you reach seventeen. Speaking of which, your birthday is round the corner, isn't it? Let's get you an early birthday present."

"Sirius I don't need-"

"Hush, Harry," he stopped him and dragged the unwilling boy down the street. They crossed the main lane of shops of Diagon Alley, took the sharp bend and then entered the lane opposite it. Harry suddenly realized where it was that the two of them were actually heading.

"Really Sirius, Knockturn Alley?" He asked with raised eyebrows.

Sirius stopped and stared close at his godson. "What's _wrong_ with you? Where is your marauder sense of adventure? What happened to the boy, who used a time-turner, saved Buckbeak and broke me out of the cell and helped me escape?"

Harry flushed.

'My father always had us shop from here. Besides, you will get things here, things you will not get anywhere else in town. Now come on." He winked conspiratorially at his godson as he darted towards the dark alley. Harry simply smiled at his cheerful godfather and shook his head in amusement, before swiftly following him.

* * *

Knockturn Alley was a large place. On second thought, it was even larger than Diagon Alley was if one looked properly. The shops fitted between tight spots expanded using powerful expansion charms. There was a caterwauling charm for thieves with a couple of proximity and intrusion wards sprawled up here and there. The two figures stopped in front of one of those tiny little shacks as Sirius banged the door.

"Who's out there so early?" A gruff voice sounded.

"A potential customer. One that will walk off if you do not get your half-oiled arse out of bed, and open the door." Harry snorted at Sirius's reply but did not say anything. There was a sound of angry muttering and soon shoving of things from their places, and in five minutes, the door opened and they found a ragged-looking man with groggy eyes open the door. Harry glanced at Sirius who simply shrugged.

"What do ya want?"

"Some trinkets. I am told you keep quite a few."

"Yeah, only if ya pay for it. How do ya know ya not an Auror?" the man returned/

"Because Aurors don't wake up before nine. It's still eight-thirty."

The man stared for a moment, before he started laughing. "Good un, good one, mate. Come in, come in." he welcomed them into the shack, which was surprisingly large from the insides, no doubt expansion charms had been used to full effect.

"What can I do for you?" the man, who was now standing behind the counter, spoke out.

"My godson here needs some things that can help him to avoid detection," he paused, "for playing pranks of course. What kind of help do you think you can offer?"

Harry kept his face completely blank, though he was inwardly jumping with joy. Mentally, he congratulated himself for having the best-damned godfather.

"Aye, then you have come to the right place." The man gave them a toothless grin as he took out his wand and tapped at the wall behind four times. Instantly, a range of intricate artifacts and jewellery materialized. "Have to keep my stuff safe from the Aurors, ya know." The man winked.

He took out a small locket and put it on the table. "Enabled with a permanent stealth runic matrix. Keeps the wearer out of detection for five hours before you need to let it recharge itself for an hour. Scent masking, notice-me-not, and magic-masking, all of that lot in this." He pushed the locket over to Harry's side. "Seven hundred galleons."

"Yeah, too pricy. Lower it."

"Can't, took me six hundred and fifty to get it, ya know?"

"Yes, and I am Merlin reincarnated. Now, I will give you four hundred. Dead or no deal?"

"Five."

"Three hundred." Sirius bargained.

"Four hundred seventy."

"Three hundred twenty and I am not increasing."

"Three hundred ninety. Dead or no-deal." The man banged on the table, making the trinket shake.

"Great," Sirius smirked, taking out the required amount of money before handing it over to the man. "Nice doing business with you." Harry simply looked at him with his mouth open, in awe of his godfather who had just sealed his reputation as the coolest person Harry had ever met.

"How did you freaking do that?" Harry exclaimed, walking quickly to meet Sirius's quick stride.

"Being a marauder has more to do with it than pranking, godson." Sirius smirked. "Now, the second thing on the list." He stopped and calculated the way he was supposed to go. Finding it, he remarked, 'there's the shop I was looking for. An optician and he makes good lenses." He paused. "Also, he asks few questions and takes cash. Let's see what we can do about your eyes."

Harry simply shrugged and followed him.

* * *

 **Meanwhile at Grimmauld Place...**

Molly was irritated. It was now past eleven and neither Harry nor Sirius had come down. Not that she cared about the other man, but she feared that spending so much time with him might not be the best for Harry. After all, the man had spent a better part of his life in the dingy dungeons of Azkaban. Who knew what those nightmarish creatures did to his mind during his stay there? The thought of Harry spending time alone with such a man did not feel good to her mind.

"That's it. I am going to walk straight up and tell the both of them to come out, right now. I don't care what earth-shattering business they are busy with." She muttered to herself, as she walked upstairs. She crossed the stairs, only to find the some bangs set off on the basement. Clearly, the twins had been up to their usual activities. Muttering about insane criminals, Azkaban, and idiot pranksters, she headed down towards the basement.

* * *

 **Somewhere in Knockturn Alley...**

"How do you know that the howler will be enough?" Harry asked generally. Sirius was explaining to him various stages of the prank he had set up. Sirius chortled.

"The howler was only the first line of defense. I had programmed some bangs on the basement, some odd happenings and random events from time to time. Enough to keep that mother hen of a woman busy all day. Your cold attitude towards your friends, well I hoped that would keep them away. Moreover, a repelling ward and a notice-me-not charm on your room would be activated right after the first visit. Why do you think I locked the door and told you to escape from the window?"

Harry smirked. That had been an interesting moment. Sirius had demonstrated the Arresto Momentum spell and showed how he could use it to jump down from the window without alerting anyone. He had then gone further and applied the disillusionment charm on the two of them, and they had jumped off, walked out to the main street before Sirius had apparated them off to Diagon Alley.

Misdirection. The difference between a good prank and an awesome prank.

"So where is this optician's shop?"

"Right..." Sirius drawled the word before he crossed the lane and stood in front of another shop. "Here."

It was a tiny shack, with a signboard that read, "Sinister's optician." The door was unlocked and the two of them stepped in. The shop was open and they could spot the old man seated opposte the narrow glass counter.

"What do ya need?"

"My godson needs his eyes checked. We were looking into lenses."

* * *

The next twenty minutes were quite odd. The man had made him lay down on the bed strapping his hands and legs to the bed (precaution as he stated) before waving his wand over his eyes and muttering something obscure. After he was satisfied, he nodded as if an old elephant bothered by flies, and walked back to the counter. There he started to mix several potions into a vial and making odd sounds now and then. Finally satisfied with his creation, he looked up and forwarded the potion vial to Harry who took it gently.

"Drink this every night before bed. Your eyes should get better by the next two weeks. I will prescribe a lens to be used instead of those large flaps you call glasses." The man sneered. Sirius went over to the other side of the counter and spoke something to the man in private, leaving Harry alone to wonder what they were talking. Finally, Sirius seemed to be satisfied and passed a small amount of galleons to the man, as he walked out towards Harry.

"I have made an agreement with him," Sirius explained, "about customized lenses. He held out a tiny box, which apparently held the lenses he was talking. "Perfect vision, auto-cleaning, anti-summoning charms, and the standard protections. All of it in there." He cast a pointed glance towards the tiny contraption in his hand. "Plus, it has night vision and the ability to see under clothes."

Harry opened his mouth in surprise, and then closed it. His mind jammed for a moment, as he understood the lewd suggestion Sirius had made, before he gulped, and returned, "You are joking, right?"

"I am." Sirius continued with a straight face.

Pause.

Blink.

"Wait, what?" Then his godfather's words made sense as he flushed with embarrassment, knowing his godfather had just pranked him. Sirius could not hold up any longer and broke down into laughter. "You are too easy, godson." He snorted again.

"I will get you for that. Retribution will be mine." Harry declared.

"Promises, promises, godson." Sirius smirked.

* * *

 **Two Hours later...**

Molly was furious. It was now noon and the blasted boy had not yet come down. She could not even believe that the two of them were still locked inside, doing Merlin-knew-what. Deciding that enough was enough, she scrambled over the stairs, and crossed the usual routes, only to walk up to the main tiny hallway where the door was, and-

 _Wait a minute. Where is the door? It was supposed to be here, right?_

Deciding that she had taken up the wrong route by mistake, she went back and tried again. It was the same thing. She tried again, and again, until she had crossed the tiny hallway over ten times, been through every nook and cranny on that particular floor, but the blasted room was just not to be seen. Finally, unable to keep her frustrations down, she raised her hands above her head and yelled...

"What the hell is HAPPENING?"

Two doors behind her, the knob rotated, and Harry looked out. "What happened, Mrs. Weasley? Is something wrong?" Molly spun around to see Harry standing outside of the room she was searching for all this while. How she had not noticed the room so far was beyond her.

"Oh nothing my dear, are you done doing whatever you were doing?" She asked, though Harry could ascertain the forced sweetness in her voice.

"Yes, I am done, Mrs. Weasley. I just needed to clear up some things. That is all." he put his hand on his stomach, which let out a tiny grumble. "Do you have something to eat, Mrs. Weasley? I am really hungry."

His last statement seemed to erase all the thoughts from Molly's mind. A genuine smile forming on her face, she turned back. "Of course, dear. Come down and I will whip something up for you."

"You are the best, Mrs. Weasley."

Molly smiled sweetly at him as she descended the stairs. Such a sweet little boy he was!


	7. Chapter 7 : Discoveries

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _Two doors behind her, the knob rotated, and Harry looked out. "What happened, Mrs. Weasley? Is something wrong?" Molly spun around to see Harry standing outside of the room she was searching for all this while. How she had not noticed the room so far was beyond her._

 _"Oh nothing my dear, are you done doing whatever you were doing?" She asked, though Harry could ascertain the forced sweetness in her voice._

 _"Yes, I am done, Mrs. Weasley. I just needed to clear up some things. That is all." he put his hand on his stomach, which let out a tiny grumble. "Do you have something to eat, Mrs. Weasley? I am really hungry."_

 _His last statement seemed to erase all the thoughts from Molly's mind. A genuine smile forming on her face, she turned back. "Of course, dear. Come down and I will whip something up for you."_

 _"You are the best, Mrs. Weasley."_

 _Molly smiled sweetly at him as she descended the stairs. Such a sweet little boy he was!_

* * *

Harry saw her walk down the stairs and let out the breath he was unconsciously holding until now. Seeing her depart, he let out a sigh and closed the door.

"Is she gone?"

Harry turned towards Sirius who was still at the window, "The road is safe. She didn't suspect."

"Of course she didn't." Sirius exclaimed pompously, "It was my prank." Harry rolled his eyes but said nothing. "I suppose you want me keep the 'Lord Black' thing a secret, right?"

"Why on earth would I want that, godson?" Sirius asked with a mock-surprised voice. "After all that we did to get it, I wouldn't be surprised if you parade naked in Diagon Alley wearing only your Lord rings."

Harry let out a long-suffering sigh. "What now?"

Sirius' demeanor sharpened. "Now, we execute the next level of our plan." The feral excitement in his eyes made Harry second-guess his sanity. He swallowed. "What are you planning, Sirius?"

"All sorts of interesting things, Harry. All sorts of interesting things."

* * *

 **The Minister's office, Ministry of Magic.**

"Minister Fudge?"

Cornelius looked up from the newspaper as he regarded the person standing in front of him. It was Samantha, his niece and the secretary to the DMLE chief Amelia Bones. "Ah, what brings you here, Samantha?" he asked with a cheerful smile.

"Madam Bones is arriving shortly. She asked me to inform you in advance so that you do not keep her waiting."

"Right." Cornelius adjusted his robes. "Inform her I'm free at the moment." Samantha nodded briskly and darted off. Cornelius wiped off the items on his table, and sat up straight. For some reason, the DMLE chief made him quite uncomfortable, though it was clear that it was he was her Boss. Something about her being a self-confident, intimidating woman, he supposed.

Amelia entered into his office, knocking on his door. Fudge looked at her and gave an uneasy smile. "What can I do for you, Amelia?"

"You can start by telling me," she strode up and banged a piece of parchment on his table, "about how two dementors in Ministry control went all rogue and killed Harry Potter's relatives."

 _Fuck._

"What do you-what do you mean dementors attacked?"

Amelia fixed him with a cold, intimidating stare. "Two dementors, hundreds of miles away from Azkaban, in Privet Drive, Surrey, attacked Harry Potter's relatives. Clearly, the attack was meant to be on Harry Potter, who for some reason was not present there at the moment. It is just luck on our part that the beasts did not get to suck his soul apart."

 _What the hell had Dolores tried to achieve by that? The boy's death would simply shift the verdict towards Dumbledore's side._

Fudge felt the trickling sweat drop down the back of his neck. This was not supposed to happen. Harry Potter was supposed to be vilified by his campaign. The attack by dementors on him would only show him to be the victim, getting him even more media attention than he already had.

 _I cannot let that happen. The boy will continue to spread more lies to bring me down._

"Amelia that cannot be right. Dementors are under ministry control. There is no way that-" he stammered.

"Then please explain how two dementors went all out rogue and attacked Harry Potter. Cornelius, this is getting out of hand. First the revelation that Crouch Junior is in fact alive, then the death of Crouch Senior, and then Potter's testimony about You-know-who-"

"YOU-KNOW-WHO IS NOT ALIVE!" Fudge screeched loudly, covering his ears with his palms. Amelia raised an eyebrow at his behavior. "You know Minister, in case Potter is indeed telling the truth, covering your ears might just be what sends our country to Hell."

"ENOUGH, AMELIA!" Fudge thundered, before taking deep breaths as he calmed himself down. "The dark lord is not alive. He was dead when Potter destroyed him in 1981. There is no way he is still alive. It is all a grand plan drafted by Dumbledore and him to dethrone me from my position."

Amelia gave him a blank stare.

"This news should not go public." Fudge stressed. "It is a simple matter of no necessary concern." He took a deep breath.

"But Corn-"

"It is AN ORDER! I classify it under the Official Secrets Act. Law forbids you from doing any kind of query into this matter henceforth. Now leave." Amelia looked sharply at him for a moment. "You know Fudge, now I have even more faith that Harry Potter was indeed telling the truth," she smirked at the frightened face of the esteemed Minister of Magic, "and I think it is you who is being blind and leading us to Hell. Should he dark lord rise, you will be forever remembered as the person that led to his rise."

Fudge stuttered and stammered, while Amelia nodded briskly as she walked away, leaving him alone to his musings. She walked out of the office, striding towards the DMLE offices. The moment she entered her office, she rang the bell in her room as she relaxed into her chair. Samantha walked in.

"You called, Madam Bones?"

"Yes, Samantha. Did you send the letter as I said?"

"Yes, Maam."

"Good."

Samantha stopped, and hesitated, "who was the letter to, Maam?"

"Oh, it was for an old friend." Amelia replied casually, as she started to read the newspaper. Samantha shrugged to herself as she left the room. She never spotted the ghost of a smirk on the DMLE chief's lips. Her little plan, the one she had formulated an hour earlier had worked perfectly.

" **Director, Potter's relatives were kissed by two dementors. Nothing except their soulless husks now remain." Shacklebolt exclaimed.**

" **What about Potter? Is he also-"**

" **No, he wasn't there at the moment. He was somewhere else, and has been collected by Dumbledore."**

" **By his vigilante group, you mean?" Amelia pressed. Kingsley looked mortified. "I am not sure what you mean, Director."**

" **Stop playing coy, Kingsley. I know very well that you and Auror Tonks are part of Dumbledore's 'Order of the Phoenix'." She emphasized on the last words using air quotes. Kingsley stiffened.**

 **Amelia gave him a cold glance. "I did not become the Director by playing cards, Kingsley. I just want to know what the hell you morons are doing in that group of retired old farts. I have yet to see one positive outcome from it, since all I find is the Order playing home guard to Harry Potter and at the entrance of the Department of Mysteries. Frankly, Croaker has been finding your antics as particularly funny."**

" **Director, I-We-" Kingsley stammered.**

 **Amelia huffed and continued, "You people do not have one positive outcome from your big posturing and all of that 'order' things that you claim you do. Potter's family was attacked in open daylight and no one could do anything. You are only successful at one thing, and that is being a naïve and stupid nuisance. Stop your antics and do something productive."**

" **Does it mean that you also believe that you-know-who is back?"**

 **Amelia rolled her eyes.**

" **You may go, Kinglsey. I have some work to do. As soon as I bring this news to Fudge's attention, he will try to keep it sunk down under Ministry files. I need to figure out something workable. Now out." She commanded as Kingsley darted off.**

" **How did these morons become Aurors?" She muttered to herself, as she drafted a letter for herself. Addressing it to her old friend Barnabus Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet, she attached a copy of the report before putting it all in an envelope.**

" **Samantha?"**

 **The young girl, who had gotten her position because of her relation to the Minister, walked into the room. "Yes, Director?"**

" **Please send this letter for me, will you?"**

" **Sure, Maam."**

 _ **Now all I need to do is to provoke Fudge enough that he declares it a Ministry secret.**_

 **She smirked.**

Amelia relaxed on her seat. Her plan had worked wonderfully so far. The letter was sent, and all that was left was for Barnabus to read it and act accordingly. The Minister had sealed the news as a Ministry secret, which completely diverted the blame off her head.

 _Nothing like a little misdirection, after all._

* * *

 **Meanwhile at Black Townhouse...**

"Sirius, what exactly are we doing?" Harry asked for the third time, as Sirius was being extremely tight-lipped about all this. Sirius had entered the Lord's study alongside him and was now trying to track out a hidden chamber inside the room that housed the wardstones. He was waving his wand here and there, muttering obscure words as his wand glowed purple now and then.

"I am trying to locate the hidden chamber inside this room that will give us access to the wardstone."

"You told that already," Harry countered with irritation, "What I want to know is why?"

"So that you can take over it. It will remove Dumbledore's power over the wards, and reduce his power to monitor over us."

"WHAT?" Harry yelled, "The old man has been monitoring us?"

"Most of the time, yes. Why do you think I bought you the magic-masking trinket?"

"But what about you?"

Sirius stopped as he stared at him. He walked up and gripped Harry's shoulders, and looked into his eyes. "Because I am older, experienced but infinitely less valuable than you." He raised his palm to stop Harry from refuting. "Accept it, Harry. I, Remus, we are the entities of the past. We belong to your parent's times. No matter how much I wish it, no matter how much I would like to deny, the fact is that this is indeed your war. Voldemort came after you in 1981, and he has been coming after you ever since. I will be damned if I deny the truth and try to pretend that you are some sort of child that should stay in hiding till Dumbledore decides that it is time for you to come out of your cage and fight the bad guy, killing yourself in the process because there is no way that-"

Sirius left his words unsaid as a shocking thought shot through his brain. It was something that Harry had raised in their discussion the previous day and though they had hit a dead end, the present thought kick started it all over again.

" **You would think that Dumbledore would help me prepare for this eventuality after all the things that have happened year after year, every single year. First with Quirrel, then with the basilisk and then dementors and the Triwizard, the dragons and everything-" Harry let it unfinished, taking a deep breath.**

" **He never even demonstrated any eagerness to try to train you? Never at all?"**

 **Harry shook his head.**

" **Do you think that might have been because you had never been more than average? Your results just show an average academic performance."**

" **I don't know." Harry countered with frustration. "Dumbledore, he confuses me. On the one side, he helps me out with wonderful pieces of advice, he understands me in a way no one ever did, while on the other," he paused, "he never provided me anything to train myself in. Though, in his defense, I never really took much interest in learning from books either. Ron was always there to play chess and talk about Quidditch, and with Hermione and everything that happened all over the years, I-"**

" **Harry," Sirius stressed. "You are a teenager. Playing Quidditch, talking about stuff, bunking classes, dating girls, that is exactly what you are supposed to do. Dumbledore did a piss-poor job every single time, and you had to be the one to wipe out the shit he left behind in his negligence."**

 **Harry nodded.**

" **I am ready to train myself now though," he muttered, "I did start learning some battle spells before I came to this house and started off with the Black Grimoire. It wasn't much but I guess it is better than knowing nothing but how to disarm people."**

" **I will help you, Harry. To be honest, Dumbledore's negligence in training you leaves me completely blank. It just makes no sense, knowing that there is a Prophecy and everything."**

 **Harry nodded.**

"Si-Sirius, do you- do you really think that Dumbledore is setting me up to die?" Harry stammered, the revelation shaking his insides. Dumbledore, the benevolent old man, the all-knowing kind headmaster, the owner of Fawkes, the person who everyone looked up to, was actually planning for him to be a martyr. It was unfathomable.

"I do not know, Harry. I do not know, but I do know this, you are not going to be alone, as you are not going to be untrained. With the Black and Potter grimoire, I will help train you. I will make you the best-damned wizard you could be, and teach you the dirtiest tricks in and out of the books. I will not fail you again, Harry, I promise you. _I will even the odds for you_." Sirius emphasized with tears in his eyes.

Harry nodded, holding himself together as unbridled love flowed in his heart for the godfather with whom he was supposed to grow up. The one he needed, not the one he deserved. His godfather had suffered twelve years in Azkaban, lost his mind repeatedly, and yet broke out of prison only to try to save him from Pettigrew. Despite the fact that he was a fugitive, His godfather left no stone unturned to help him even now. With a desperate cry resonating deep within his soul, he hugged Sirius hard, crying his heart out.

Sirius hugged him back and was about to bow down to his emotions when his wand started sparking. Instantly, he stood up and waved his wand at that particular spot on the floor. On touching it, he found that the wood was slightly different from the one in the rest of the room. With a slight touch, he pressed it, and to his surprise, it did push inwards as the wall opposite to the fireplace suddenly sprang apart, leaving a secret door.

"I don't believe it." Sirius deadpanned. "My grandfather, the Lord of the Blacks, one of the purest of the purebloods, used a muggle technique to create a secret door? Seriously?"

Harry just looked completely blank, still in surprise at the simple yet effective way in which the previous Lord, Arcturus Sirius Black had hidden the wardstone chamber hidden. He followed Sirius into the room, lighting up a Lumos at the tip of his wand.

It was unnecessary. The moment he stepped into the chamber, the torches lighted up on their own and the pair could see the large crystals sinking into the floor in the center of the room.

The wardstone.

They crept towards the stone, filling up their mind with the sight of the room. There was a large painting of the former Lord Black, sitting on the throne in the Lord's study. He had a chiseled face, sharp and intimidating. A short stubble ran down his neck while his steel gray eyes blazed with raw uninhibited power. Harry wondered for a moment how his own grandfather might have looked like.

"Harry!"

"Harry, come here, look at-" Sirius stopped midway, almost as if something had constricted his throat.

"Sirius, what happened why did you-" Harry began as he stepped towards the older man, his eyes capturing the vision that had locked Sirius's eyes. "-Stop-"

There on the right wall, stood a huge portrait, as large as Arcturus's portrait had been. This one however, looked muggle. That however, was not the important thing. Harry and Sirius stared blankly as they looked at the huge portrait of a person wearing regal blue robes, with a very familiar wand in his hand. The man had unruly jet-black hair, a handsome face and a very, very familiar pair of eyes, just that they were gray instead of green. The duo stood shell-shocked as they stared at the portrait of...

Harry Potter.


	8. Chapter 8 : Change of stance

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _"Sirius, what happened why did you-" Harry began as he stepped towards the older man, his eyes capturing the vision that had locked Sirius's eyes. "-Stop-"_

 _There on the right wall, stood a huge portrait, as large as Arcturus's portrait had been. This one however, looked muggle. That however, was not the important thing. Harry and Sirius stared blankly as they looked at the huge portrait of a person wearing regal blue robes, with a very familiar wand in his hand. The man had unruly jet-black hair, a handsome face and a very, very familiar pair of eyes, just that they were gray instead of green. The duo stood shell-shocked as they stared at the portrait of..._

 _Harry Potter._

* * *

"Bloody Hell!" Sirius muttered.

Harry just stood in awe at the painting. "This is... Me?"

Pause.

Sirius somehow gained control over his shock and looked at the painting. There was something written at one edge of the painting. Sirius wiped the dust of the edges as the writing became more distinct.

 _ **Ceffyl o farwolaeth**_

"What does it mean?" Harry asked. Sirius thought for a moment, before it hit him. This wasn't Latin, it was Welsh. "I think... I think it means," he paused, as he tried to remember the pronunciations of old Welsh that his father had taught him in his childhood. It hit him, as he looked up at the painting, "The horse of death."

Pause.

"The _horse of death_..." Harry repeated numbly. "What does that mean?"

Sirius thought about it, and the more he pondered over it, the more it made sense. "Harry, your Patronus. When did it change?"

"The previous day, the previous day morning." He stammered.

"And when did you last try to cast the Patronus before that?"

Harry thought hard. "I think, I think it was during the third task. There were a couple of Lethifolds and I drove them away."

"Was it a stag then?"

Harry nodded.

"Then it is safe to assume that your Patronus changed after you were hit by the killing curse." Sirius deduced, trying his level best to look at the event from an emotionless academic perspective. "Show me your Patronus, again."

"What's that got to do with-? - never mind..." Harry raised his palm, not caring to use his wand and whispered. "Expecto Patronum." The dazzling white thestral galloped out of his palm, inundating the entire room with white light. Sirius actually had to cover his eyes with his hands because it was too bright to see.

"Is that usually this bright?"

"No." Harry muttered in surprise, "the last time I tried it, it was bright but not as much as it is now."

"Well something must have changed, but I digress. This thestral of yours, and now this portrait, it can't just be a mere coincidence."

"You mean to say that the thestral is a horse of death?"

Sirius stared at his godson with a scrutinizing expression. "What exactly do you know about thestrals, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing, They are skeletal horses on wings?"

Sirius shook his head. "Much more than that. They look like skeletons of horses, dark as the color of death. They have large grayish wings and have unsurmountable strength and speed. Most importantly however, they can only be seen by those who have seen Death."

Harry's eyes widened at the last phrase as he looked up at the painting. "The Horse of Death," he mused, "Where do you find them?" Harry asked out of vain curiosity.

"Why Hogwarts, of course." Sirius exclaimed with a flourish, "What else do you think pulls the carriages?"

"The carriages move on their own. Nothing pulls them." Sirius fixed him with a taunting stare. "-or perhaps something invisible pulls them." Harry receded.

"Yes, thestrals are invisible to all but those who have seen Death. Perhaps thestrals might be a link in understanding who this person was, and why does my grandfather hold a painting of him." Sirius remarked, "Though, we should finish what we came for. The wardstones."

"What do I need to do?"

Sirius snuck out a dagger underneath his robes and threw it at him. Harry caught it.

"Slice your palm, and then hold it over the largest crystal. Let your blood flow into them. You will know what to do after that."

"For someone who hated his family, you are awfully knowledgeable about your family rites and rituals." Harry remarked. Sirius looked at him despondently. "I hated my family, not my grandfather. After all, he was the only one who looked after me, until I got James and the Potters in my life. Besides, your grandfather Charlus was great friends with mine, so you have that there. Grandfather always made sure that as the heir, I know about the rites and rituals of the family, though he knew very well that I rebelled against the family magic."

"Odd."

"Yes, very. Grandfather teaching me the rites without any reason, I mean, he could have chosen Regulus to be the heir easily since the family magic worked fine in his hand, but he chose me, the rebel of the family. And now I handed the magic over to you, and am able to teach you the rituals he taught me, and now... this painting... I don't know what to think of it anymore."

"Let's finish up with the wardstones." Harry suggested, not wanting to stay in the room any longer. The more he thought about it, the more it boggled the mind. He sliced his palm with the dagger and then gripped the largest crystal at the top with his bloodied palm. He could feel his fresh blood seep down into the crystal as the crystals changed into a multitude of colors, golden, red, green, maroon, black, and finally into gray before a humongous flow of energy surged from within into Harry himself as he let out a scream.

His hand was still on top of the crystal. Harry could feel the energy surging through his nerves. He could feel the Black magic in his blood surging out and falling back again like the tides of the ocean. With that came in an influx of knowledge about the wards all over and around the Black Townhouse, along with its secrets, its roots and its ambient magics.

He screamed again.

* * *

Down in the main Hall, the Weasleys and Hermione were busy cleaning the entire house. They had finished up with a couple of rooms on the ground floor, but it seemed that the huge mansion inhibited their every effort. They would clean one room, and move to the other, only to find that the former has shifted back into its dilapidated state. They would clean out the desks and drawers, and the next day they would be infested with doxies and bundimuns all over again. It was almost as if the Townhouse did not want to be cleaned in the first place.

"Hermione dear, please come here. I want you to spray the doxicide over here as I petrify them. Ready?" Molly asked. Hermione nodded, holding the doxicide ready for spray.

"Three, two-"

And then it happened.

A huge wave of magical energy flowed into the room, throwing the entire Weasley brood on the floor. Hermione was thrown to the wall, and held there tightly by the humongous force that had forced its way into the house. The pressure of the magic was so great that it was almost impossible to breathe. In one flash, the entire swarm of doxies were vaporized to dust, as were the bundimuns, at least those that could not escape the lash of energy inside it. The walls shook, throwing the grime and dirt down on the ground as the ground shook with the ripples of magical energy that were forming tiny waves on the wooden floor. There were sounds of the wooden planks cracking and tweaking, and bending all over, and then it suddenly stopped.

"What—what happened?" Ron yelled.

"Shut it Ronnie," George yelled back, "something is wrong with the house. Everyone okay?"

Everyone whispered back.

"Do you think it's gone- whatever it was?" Hermione asked. Her tone proved how frightened she really was.

"I don't know." Ron exclaimed.

"I will get to the Floo. Need to contact Dumble-"

Perhaps it was the wrong thing to say, perhaps not. However, the magical flux returned with a vengeance, and this time from the insides. It lifted everyone off their feet and blew them off, throwing them out into the courtyard. The doors barged open as they flew and landed on their arses, (a few resounding Oww's were heard) as the doors closed back with a bang. They watched with a mixture of surprise, shock, and horror as the great Townhouse seemed to come alive, ripping off from the ground and renovating its self. The planks of wood seemed to break and fix themselves up by their own as entire layers of mud and grime seemed to be blown out from the compound. The walls and pillars shook by their own, breaking and rearranging. They could hear the portrait of Walburga Black shouting her lungs out though Kreacher was nowhere to be seen. They watched with wonder as the entire house reshaped itself into the form of a formidable stone fortress from the outside instead of the squarish building it was so far. The door shifted and enlarged itself in size, as the gates extended and elongated to become more curvy and fashionable. The grass stopped being full of weeds and after a couple of moments, the Black house was no longer even recognizable.

The winds stopped and everything stood still for a moment. There was absolutely pin drop silence.

"what was it?" Molly spoke in hushed, fearful tones. Then suddenly the front door opened with a bang as she shrieked out in fright.

"Molly!"

"Mrs. Weasley, it is us."

Molly held her bosom tightly, feeling as if her heart would break out of it, as she stared at Harry Potter and Sirius Black standing at the door.

"Are you- are you all right?" she addressed Harry.

"We are good," Harry explained, "to be honest, we didn't really expect all this to happen, so we are a little shaken, I guess." Harry replied sheepishly.

"Hold on," Hermione growled, "all of this was your doing? You are dead, Harry Potter." Harry tried to look calm but the excitement was hard to contain. Once he had allowed his blood to seep into the wardstones, the entire house and its wards and ambient magics had awakened to his command, cleaning itself out of a decade of grime and dust. He had expected the wards to activate but had not foreseen the extent of the effects a surprise activation might have caused.

"Uh, I can explain."

"Actually,-" Everyone turned back as they saw Albus Dumbledore, Snape and the rest of the Order standing outside the courtyard on the road as they strode towards the compound. They must have sensed something wrong with the wards and apparated.

"—we all would like to know what you two have been up to."

Harry and Sirius darted quick glances at each other.

"To the drawing room, then?" Harry offered.

* * *

"It completely boggles my mind how you could be so dumb to try such a stupid task by yourself. Taking control of the wardstones of this building? Seriously? Have you forgotten that you are a Potter? Not a Black?"

"What else can you expect, Minerva. He is a _Potter_." Snape sneered, the spit of his mouth spraying outward with his statement.

"I am very disappointed in-" Dumbledore began but Sirius cut him off. "All right, all right, you have made your point." He turned towards the other two. "Minerva has expressed her mind, and Severus has thrown his filthy spit all around again," he continued with a straight face, ignoring the chuckling among the children and Harry's snort. Severus looked like he would want nothing better than to strange Black with his bare hands.

"Let's answer it then, shall we?" Sirius asked, but without waiting for an answer, he began, "firstly, I believe old age is catching up with you, Minerva. Dorea Black, your friend and Harry's grandmother, was a Black. Therefore, he does have Black blood in him." He looked snottily at her before turning to the others animatedly. "Second, I made Harry my heir in magic and _blood_ , making him the new Heir of Black, and that makes this _his_ house. He can do whatever he wants with this, including taking control over the wardstones." He stuck his tongue out maturely at Albus and continued, "Third, this is _none of your fucking business_." The last sentence was dripping with so much venom that Albus almost recoiled.

"It seems Azkaban had addled your brains, Black." Severus sneered, "Potter is a _half-blood_. He cannot take control of the Black family."

"Severus, do me a favor and shut your mouth. It's spraying spit all over the floor." Sirius snapped. "I made Harry my heir, by magic, by oath, Annnd," he paused for a moment, "by _blood_."

"Impossible." Shrieked Molly Weasley. "He is not your child. He is a Potter, not a Black."

"He is my godson, he is my family."

"No he is not. I have seen this coming since long, Black. Azkaban has addled your brain. I have seen the way you talk about him; it is as if you got your old friend back. He is not James, Sirius." She screeched.

"I know perfectly well who he is." Sirius snapped coldly.

"No, you don't. I raised him, not you. You were away shackled up in Azkaban while I was the one-"

"ENOUGH!"

A huge wave of magical energy inundated all over the room as Harry's aura flared brightly. The huge grayish aura hung like a cloak all over him, as energy poured down him in waves. The pressure of the energy increased as it became distinctly uncomfortable for everyone to breathe.

Harry walked down the stairs. Every step he made, the energy flowed down through him, seeping down from his skin while the aura hung to him like a cloak. "You did not raise me, Mrs. Weasley. I only spent a couple of weeks in my second year at your place. While I am grateful to you for your efforts, it does not give you any right to deny Sirius's role and his importance in my life. Sirius Black is my godfather. He is more family to me than anyone here is- including you. Do not make me choose, because I will choose him. Every. Single. Time."

"Harry, I believe you are simply-"

"Ah, Dumbledore, how nice of you to finally acknowledge my presence. Even now you seem to hide your eyes away from me." Harry did not know from where the vitriol was coming from, but he continued. The truth was- Dumbledore was actually shielding his eyes away, not looking at him directly in the eye. It annoyed him further.

"This is my house, and I am the Lord Black," he revealed his Lord ring which glinted for everyone to see, "and Lord Potter, so I want to make it clear for everyone, do not try to control me. You will not like it."

Dumbledore seemed thoughtful for a moment. "My boy," he began, "I am merely disappointed in you that you hid the facts from me. You could have told me, and I would have helped you do it the correct way."

"Just like you have helped keeping me away from my heritage? Like you kept me in the prison house at privet drive to be tortured all through my childhood? As if you wanted to take away the contents of my family vaults only so that you could fund your piss-poor group of retired farts? No Dumbledore, I am done with you. With you and your blasted Order of the Farts."

"I am afraid it is your anger speaking, Harry." Dumbledore tried.

"Is it? Is that why you-"

"Harry," Sirius gripped his shoulder, "it is enough. Calm down." Surprisingly, Harry did calm down, as he sighed and walked up the stairs. Sirius gave a cold look towards everyone, especially towards Dumbledore. He completely ignored the filthy look that Snape gave him. "So rules are thus. Harry is Lord Black, and this is _his_ house. You guys can carry out your dealings in the drawing room if you must, and I am going to continue being in the Order as I was."

"We can always throw you out from the Order." Snape sneered.

"And I can always throw you out of the house; right on the streets where a cur like you belongs." Sirius countered.

"Why you filthy mongrel-"

"And you are the ex-death eater who licks the old man's arse to save your pitiable self from Azkaban."

Snape snarled at him.

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore intervened. "Sirius, Severus, both of you control yourself. Severus, Sirius is a part of the order as much as you are. Sirius, please do not bring Severus's past into the topic. It is unwanted."

Sirius shrugged.

"Am I correct in guessing that Harry wants to be a part of the Order?"

"No."

"Excuse me?" Albus could not believe his ears.

"Harry is, to quote his own words, _done with Magical Britain, its hypocrisy and Voldemort._ All he desires is to be simply left alone to study for himself, like a child of his age should. Wasn't that was what you were professing the previous day?" Sirius taunted.

"I—yes, I mean, yes of course, he is a child and a student. This is not his war." Dumbledore stammered uncharacteristically.

"Then I am sure you will not mind if he dedicates long hours to his own education in hi family magics? Plus, as I have heard, his years at Hogwarts have had indecent and underqualified teachers lately." He ignored the snarl that Snape gave out. "I am sure you will agree that he deserves to be left alone, studying in peace."

"I can study with him," Hermione suggested eagerly.

"I am sorry, Hermione, but you can't. You are not family, and what he is learning is family magic that belongs to only and only the Potter and Black families. Since you are from neither, you aren't allowed." Sirius snapped.

"But that's- that's unfair and-" she noticed the blank stares everyone was giving her, before falling back silent.

"Very well, so do we have an accord?"

"Yes," Dumbledore grounded out. "We do."

"Great." Sirius exclaimed cheerfully. He turned back and climbed a few steps, and then stopped as he turned back again, "for the record, the kitchen belongs to Kreacher. Molly will have to make do with some other room. Thank you, everyone." he even did a funny little bowing as he ascended the stairs.

"Bloody hell." Ron grunted at last, holding a piece of bacon that he was eating since the cleaning had started.

* * *

 **ONE WEEK LATER.**

The Black Townhouse looked completely different. Instead of the sprawling bush of weeds, and the doxy-infested building, the house of Black was now a majestic, fortified building with a sprawling lawn on every side. The rooms were spotlessly clean and the surfaces shone. In fact, it could be said that Molly Weasley had a hard time making sure that the surfaces did not get dusty from her kitchen activities. After all, she did not care to wash the grime off in her own kitchen at the burrow, since the grime had faded into the color of the wood. Here though, it was different and she had a hard job maintaining it.

The Weasleys had been granted rooms on the ground floor, with Bill having his own rooms while the twins and Ron shared one large room. Ginny and Hermione banked up in another while the elder Weasleys had one to themselves. There was another room reserved for kitchen. While Molly had interacted with Harry after the incident, they had a forced feeling in them. Molly did not like how Sirius was being given first preference in Harry's life, and Harry had no qualms about proving the point straight up to her face. Ron had taken his mother's stance, causing another dent in the already rifted friendship the two friends had. Bill and the twins remained friendly with him, Bill being an honorary elder brother who taught him some little things about ward breaking from time to time, while the twins... well they went on as they usually did. The first floor was mostly deserted since Harry and Sirius lived on the third floor. Harry had taken to living in Regulus' room, much to Kreacher's liking, while Sirius found his old room quite accommodating. Much to Hermione's protests, Harry had not permitted her into the family library, citing that she was not family and thus, was not allowed. It had led to another of their quarrels, leading to Harry losing his cool, and stopping her with a silencing-and-petrifying hex, something he had newly learnt.

Dumbledore and the rest of the Order still met, and Sirius still attended every session, though all he did was hear about the news about what everyone had seen and heard. He would get bored from hearing what Dogbreath Doge and Emmeline Vance had heard from their social parties, and there were moments when Remus had to shove an elbow to wake him up. Speaking of Remus, the older man had taken up quarters at the Black house, living on the ground floor with the rest of the Weasleys, since it was clear that Sirius had clearly not forgiven him for not taking care of Harry in his absence. The fact that Remus had cited Dumbledore's reasoning as his excuse did not help matters either.

Morning came, and everyone descended to the drawing room where breakfast was to be served. Today, Dumbledore and the rest of the Order had joined them, because Molly had all but forced a big, happy gathering for lunch. Merlin knew the woman was obsessed with feeding everyone. Harry had taken the chair on one end, while Sirius had taken the other, making it effectively clear who was in control. The rest, including Dumbledore, had to settle for the other chairs.

"I wonder when the newspaper will come." Alastor grunted, as he smelt his pork. Within seconds of his uttering, there was a hoot as an owl flew in and dropped three of the Daily Prophet newspaper on the table. Alastor gathered one, while Harry took the other. The other children shared the third. Dumbledore continued to eat his breakfast slowly.

"So, anything special on today's paper?" he asked slowly, as he bit into his bread.

Silence.

Dumbledore lifted his head and found everyone staring at the paper with something like disbelief. Quickly, he edged towards Alastor and quickly read the contents.

 **BOY-WHO-LIVED ATTACKED BY DEMENTORS!**

 **HAS THE FIGHT BETWEEN THE BOY-WHO-LIVED AND MINISTER FUDGE TURNED TO A BLOODBATH?**

 **Nine days ago, two rogue dementors attacked Harry Potter's family. Luckily, the boy-who-lived had been away at the moment but his family did not share his luck. The two dementors fed on the muggles, leaving them soulless husks as they vanished from sight. It took us some time to get this information and verify it because for some apparent reason, Minister Fudge has classified the investigation as a state secret. Given the way, the Ministry has been defaming Harry Potter since the Triwizard tournament ended, one wonders if there might have been some foul play involved.**

 **We inquired over the matter and ended up with the following questions.**

 **Why did the Dementors attack Harry Potter?**

 **How did the dementors under Ministry control turn rogue, and even if they did, why travel hundreds of miles to kill one Harry Potter?**

 **If the dementors were not rogues, then was someone high up in the Ministry responsible for sending them to kill Harry Potter? Why?**

 **Is this the Minister's way of ending all kinds of opposition?**

 **Earlier this year, Harry Potter proclaimed that you-know-who was back, a statement that was later seconded by Albus Dumbledore himself. There had been rumors about Barty Crouch Senior been killed and Barty Crouch Junior being alive. The Minister has been extremely tightlipped about the events and has declared the happenings under the Official Secrets Act.**

 **Why is the Minister so tightlipped about all this?**

Everyone turned to Harry. Including Sirius.

"What?" Harry muttered out uncomfortably.

"My boy," Dumbledore exclaimed, "Did you have anything to do with this?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well then," the headmaster mused, "this certainly bodes well for us anyway. I never thought that the media could be spun on our side in this fashion, but whoever is responsible for this endeavor, has helped our side a lot."

"It could be Madam Bones." Kinglsey muttered.

"Indeed?" Albus's eyes were twinkling madly. "Please expound on that."

Kinglsey swallowed. "The Director knows about our activities, and disagrees with our methods. She thinks that we are simply a nuisance and nothing more." The statement was met with angry hissing (from Molly and surprisingly, Snape) to silence (Moody) to open snorting (Harry and Sirius) to anxious mutterings (the rest of the order).

"Silence, please." Albus pleaded, "What else can you say?"

Kinglsey gathered his thoughts. "She thinks that we do not have any positive outcome to the impeding war, and she believes that You-know-who is back. When I submitted the report about the dementors, she said that she would try to do something productive with it."

"Interesting, I believe Madam Bones can be a useful ally."

Harry snorted but did not say anything.

"I wonder though, why she allowed this report to publish after this long." Emmeline wondered. Alastor chortled. "Because it puts blame off her head, idiot." Emmeline flushed but said nothing. "That girl has a good head upon her shoulders."

"Well, I am done with my breakfast, so I am going to return to my study. See you guys, later." Harry replied as he got up.

"My boy," Albus stopped him midway, "I was wondering if I could ask you about your studies. More precisely, the fields of your study."

"I think I already told you that, Headmaster." Harry replied, not even looking back at him. "I am studying family magic."

"My boy, given how Tom is back, I believe it is time that I take an active part in your education." Harry stopped as he waited for the next words to come. "I have arranged it with Professor Snape to instruct you in the arts of Occlumency."

Sirius chortled. "Very funny joke, you almost got me there." Then, he paused, as realization dawned upon him. "You are actually serious. Aren't you?"

Dumbledore smiled benignly.

Sirius looked at him for a moment, before his glance shifted to Harry and then back to him. "Have you finally gone off your rocker?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, have you finally turned as senile as the Daily prophet claims you to be? Occlumency requires _complete trust between student and teacher_. You want _Snivellus_ , to teach Occlumency to the very person he _hates_ with every fiber of his being?"

"Sirius, I am sure Harry and Professor Snape can mend their-"

"Not interested."

Dumbledore turned towards Harry who had finally spoken.

"What?"

"Not interested."

"Harry, my boy, it is imminent that you learn it, lest Tom mentally manipulates your mind."

"Then why don't you teach him yourself?" Sirius challenged.

"I- It is not possible for me to teach Harry, because of some private reasons."

"I see." Harry remarked. "It is not possible for me to be tutored by Snape."

"But my boy, that will cause a great problem and-"

"The problem is yours. Solve it yourself. I will see you later." He ended decisively, leaving no room for argument. He ascended the stairs, leaving a very thoughtful Albus Dumbledore behind.


	9. Chapter 9 :End of summer

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _"Harry, my boy, it is imminent that you learn it, lest Tom mentally manipulates your mind."_

 _"Then why don't you teach him yourself?" Sirius challenged._

 _"I- It is not possible for me to teach Harry, because of some private reasons."_

 _"I see." Harry remarked. "It is not possible for me to be tutored by Snape."_

 _"But my boy, that will cause a great problem and-"_

 _"The problem is yours. Solve it yourself. I will see you later." He ended decisively, leaving no room for argument. He ascended the stairs, leaving a very thoughtful Albus Dumbledore behind._

* * *

 **One month later...**

"Ignis flagellum!" Sirius whispered throwing the fire whip towards Harry who elegantly jumped out of the way, as the whip slashed against the floor, creating a deep furrow. Harry spun around and fired three dark stunners at Sirius who put on a high-powered shield to stop them, giving Harry time to fire a flurry of silver arrows towards him. Sirius instantly dodged out of the way and threw an overpowered blasting curse at Harry. The blasting curse flew rapidly at him and hit him in the chest.

Harry Potter disintegrated into dust.

"NO!" Sirius cried out, losing his defensive posture instantly as he strode towards the now fallen dust when-

"Incarcerous!"

Thick ropes bound him all over, making him fall down on the ground. Harry walked up from behind him, his wand twirling in his hand as he did.

"Neat!" Sirius commented, "That illusion was perfect. I thought my curse hit you."

"No chance. I cast that illusion right after firing the arrows. I knew you would dodge and throw up a powerful offensive in return." Harry smirked.

"Figured me out, have you?"

"You bet." He extended his hand to Sirius as the ropes fell off. Sirius held his hand and lifted himself up. "Well done, Prongslet. I have finally taught you everything I knew about defense and offense."

Harry could not help but feel a bit disappointed. Sirius had been a great teacher. While Remus had been a good teacher, he had focused more on magical creatures and less on spells. Sirius had been completely focused on raw fighting and learning spells. It was preparing for battle, no more dillydallying with Lethifolds and boggarts.

"What now?"

Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment. "You can continue your studies in family magic. The Black and Potter grimoire should be more than enough for that. I was thinking along the lines of something different, something that might give you an edge in a fight."

"What?"

"Tell me godson, what do you know about an animagus?"

Harry grinned.

* * *

A month had passed since the House of Black had seen the shift of power inside the household. Ever since Harry held the power over the wardstones, everyone paid heed to his words. After all, the entire house was now under his command and although Dumbledore was the secret keeper for the Fidelius under which the house was kept, the major wards were under Harry's control, which meant that he could as well throw Dumbledore and his cohorts out of the main gate and no one would be able to even defend himself or herself. Considering how the townhouse was layered with an overwhelming number of wards, most of which having their roots in blood and intent-based magic, no one tried to test the nature of the wards. As it was, Harry and Sirius found themselves working successfully on Harry's education in the upper floors of the house, irrespective of the fish-market that the ground floor was, courtesy to the Order's activities.

His relationship with Ron and Hermione had been on the verge of complete breakdown. It was not because of any severe quarrels or misunderstandings. Rather, the process was quite gradual, or at least seemed like it. With Harry spending more of his time with Sirius, chatting about stuff or practicing secret magic, Hermione and Ron had spent their time together- Hermione doing her homework and revising her texts, while Ron wasted in time either playing chess with one of his brothers or relaxing off languidly, much to her consternation. Ginny, well the girl was seen spending most of her time writing letters to someone and sending a flurry of letters. Hermione had even eavesdropped on one of her writing sessions to find that she was in fact, sending them to Dean Thomas, their year mate in Gryffindor. Knowing that it was none of her business (not that she was interested) she kept away from asking Ginny about it. Bill usually left for Gringotts every morning and returned home late, and was rarely seen except at dinner, that too when he did not dine up with some friends. The twins were busy inventing in their own world, making it a very boring household.

She had tried eavesdropping on Harry's private sessions, though Harry had told her off on the face, much to her consternation. She could swear that her friend was changing, becoming more heartless, cold and calculating. Ron might be lax about it all but Hermione was not. She noticed the changes and it worried her. Harry was turning out into exactly what Dumbledore had imagined. The books he carried and studied, Hermione had checked them out in passing glances and none of them looked anything less than sinister. She had confronted Harry about it, and received a not-interested glance in return. She had spent the entire night ranting about him to Ron, while that brat slept soundly on the third floor. It drove her mad.

"Hermione?"

She did not answer. Her mind was engaged in a tempest of questions related to Harry Potter, and whatever it was, he was studying so seriously.

"Hermione?"

"WHAT?" she snapped.

Ron looked at her with bleary eyes. "It's almost eleven. I am going to sleep. I think you should move to your room."

"I am worried about Harry, Ron. I am afraid those books are turning him dark. Remember what Dumbledore had said?"

Ron let out a loud yawn. "We will talk about it in the morning, Herm-ninny! It's late."

Hermione nudged him tightly with the elbow. Ron winced in pain as he sat up. "What's wrong with you?"

"I am going to look at the book he keeps on studying. I need to see it for myself what it is that is making Harry what he is."

Ron looked at her as if she had grown two heads. "The room is always locked, and you are not allowed to enter."

Hermione sneered at him. She was surprisingly good at it. "When has locked doors stopped us, Ron? Besides, don't you remember what Riddle's diary did to Ginny? What if the same thing is now happening with Harry?"

That got him thinking.

"You think you can break into his study room?" He asked finally. Hermione beamed.

* * *

"Alohomora!"

Nothing happened.

"Aberto!"

Still nothing happened.

Hermione stopped. This was either some very powerful locking charm or else a ward that was protecting the door. Perhaps...

Her mind went back to her charms text, where she had studied about lock-picking charms. There was one powerful spell that overrode most of the locking charms, but the book said that it was illegal to cast it.

She waved her wand in a complex movement before muttering. "Confractus cincinno."

The lock broke open.

Hermione allowed herself to bask in her moment of triumph. For all of Harry's Lording around, she could still break his powerful locking charm. That itself spoke about who was more talented among them. Besides, what he was studying was something called family magic, something that was quite intricate and much more complicated than the magic everyone studied at Hogwarts. She knew Harry was at most, an above-average student. There was no way he would know more magic than her. Her mind went back to the Patronus charm, but then she told herself that she had never tried casting it, and Harry had over a year to practice it. It was almost a given that she could whip up a Patronus in her sleep given enough practice.

"Hermione, is it safe to enter?" Ron whispered from behind. They knew that Harry was sleeping in the next room, and any disturbance could wake him up. Hermione waved her wand and finding no obstacles in her way, stepped into the room and gestured him to follow. There, on the top of a stone pedestal, was the blasted tome that her friend always studied. She tiptoed all the way, until she was right in front of the tome, and the words BLACK FAMILY GRIMOIRE was distinctly visible to her. The tome looked ancient in every way, and the binding was nothing she had ever seen before.

She read the tiny inscription on the cover. It was strange.

 **Sal et sugar vultus amo**

 _Even salt looks like sugar? What is that supposed to-?_

WHAM!

A humongous force of air lifted her off her feet and banged her against the wall. Her head hit the wall and her temples started to bleed from the bruise.

"HERMIONE!" Ron bellowed as he ran towards her, and held her up. She somehow held her palm over her bleeding temples, as she looked up, her face scared as she observed someone standing right in front of her. She slowly tried to raise her wand. Ron looked at the direction she was pointing her wand and was shocked out of his wits. Standing in front of them, wand waving dangerously was a very, very angry Harry Potter.

"What the FUCK were you trying to do?" Harry asked, enraged. His eyes shone with a bright green sheen.

Ron however, seemed to have seen and heard enough. "YOU DARK WIZARD," he bellowed, as he slowly left Hermione on the wall and got up, "she was trying to save you from that accursed tome. Look what you did to her?"

Harry glared at Ron. "I saved her life."

Ron seemed to have had enough with his lies. "Sluggulus Eructo!" He yelled it as a brown jet of light flew out from his wand tip towards Harry who simply deflected it with his wand. "What are you doing?" He hissed angrily, his hissing bordering on Parseltongue.

That got Ron even madder. "Expelliarmus! Depulso! Petrificus Totalus!"

Harry's face remained expressionless as he simply deflected the spells with his wand. He had practiced the art of deflection for stronger spells and Ron's spells were second year level at maximum. It was child's play. Ron decided to forget that he was a wizard as he dropped his wand and ran towards Harry, wanting to pummel him with his bare hands.

A stream of blue shot out from behind and Ron fell on the ground, bound by the Incarcerous hex. Sirius walked into the room, still in his nightclothes, a confused expression on his face. The noise from the tiny battle had woken up most members, and everyone rushed in. Molly in particular, who was now at the doorway, rushed in to see her little Ronnie bound on the floor, struggling to get rid of the spell. She sat down and tried to help him up, but failing to do so, raised her wand at Sirius and snarled, "Free my son, Black, or I will kill you personally."

"He was attacking my godson." Sirius snarled back. "I just stopped him from getting hurt."

Molly did not seem to be satisfied with that. She glanced at Harry fiercely, observing the emotionless look on his face. "You have changed, Harry. Black has made you a dark wizard. Look at you. Hurting your best friend." She glanced at Hermione's wounded form, "what have you done to Hermione?"

"He threw her up against the wall." Ron yelled out for everyone to hear.

"Harry?" Bill asked tentatively.

"I saved her life." Harry replied simply. Turning to Bill, he explained, "Hermione broke into my study and was about to touch the Black Family Grimoire. She would have been cursed horrifically at best, and died at worst, if I did not hastily remove her away. She was just about to touch the grimoire. All I did was send a banishing charm towards her."

Bill stared at him, as he comprehended what he was saying. He turned towards the fallen girl and demanded. "Why the hell would you try to do such a stupid thing? Family grimoires are to be touched and handled by those _of blood_. Anyone else gets cursed horrifically."

"I—I didn't know that." Hermione stuttered.

"Of course you didn't. You just went up and did the only thing you could- decide what you know best and ignore everyone's views. You did the same with my Firebolt, and then with the house elves." Harry replied in harsh tones. "There is a reason why I kept the book to myself. I had told you all clearly; do not touch anything from the library."

Hermione seemed to be subdued. "I- I thought that the charms on the lock-"

Harry glared angrily and she stopped midway.

"Dint you have protections placed, Harry?" Bill asked.

Harry sighed. "As I said, I had told everyone clearly that no one was to enter the Lord's study. Even with that, I put on a basic locking charm and cast a proximity trigger on the door. When those two morons opened the door, it triggered the ward and woke me up. If I was a second late-" he left the words unfinished. Everyone stood in silence. "And then, that moron," Harry pointed at Ron, "lost his fucking mind and began to attack me mindlessly." His tone was scathing and filled with rage.

Ron mumbled something but it was incomprehensible. Harry sighed. "Look guys, I just wanted to be left alone where I could learn magic in peace. For Merlin's sake, there is a dark lord baying for my blood and Dumbledore would not lift a finger to help me. My only aid is my family magic so let me learn it in peace."

"That's unfair, Harry," Hermione began, "he arranged Occlumency classes with professor Snape."

Harry laughed mirthlessly.

"Do you even know what Occlumency is, Hermione? It is the art of protecting one's memories from intrusion. Learning it involves defending against repeated attacks on my mind and memories. Knowing that son of a bitch, he would rape my mind repeatedly, making me relive my worst memories and all of it in the pretext of teaching me. I would rather not learn Occlumency than learn it from that arsehole."

Hermione gaped at him in silence.

"Just leave me alone, all of you. I want to stay in peace. Go downstairs, just go." He whispered. Silently, everyone departed downstairs to their rooms, leaving Harry and Sirius alone.

"Harry, I observed that you did not in fact, mention how you discovered that you had _natural_ occlumentic shields?"

"Why should I drop a perfectly fine deception, Sirius? After all, _even salt looks like sugar_." He cited the Black motto, making Sirius laugh.

* * *

 **Sometime in the next week...**

It was breakfast. The entire brood was downstairs over the dining table. As usual, Harry and Sirius took to the opposite ends while everyone just fit in the middle. Mrs. Weasley had made Ron work for over two hours, helping her make breakfast as a result of which, Ron was whining on the dining table.

"I feel like a house-elf," grumbled Ron.

"Well, now that you understand what dreadful lives they lead, perhaps you'll be a bit more active in S.P.E.W.!" said Hermione hopefully, as Mrs. Weasley left them to it again. "You know, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to show people exactly how horrible it is to clean all the time — we could do a sponsored scrub of Gryffindor common room, all proceeds to S.P.E.W., it would raise awareness as well as funds —"

"I'll sponsor you to shut up about _spew,_ " Harry muttered irritably. Hermione turned towards him with a scowl. "I do not expect that from you, Harry. You yourself know how bad it is to do chores and-"

The spoon dropped with a clang.

Silence.

"I would thank you not to mention my childhood _chores_ to me, Hermione. I have had enough of them, thank you very much. You should rather go and ask a house-elf instead whether they want to be free, instead of sitting here and biting my ears." Harry returned coldly.

Everyone drew his or her breaths in at the impeding fight but a sudden hoot dissolved the tense situation. "Booklists have arrived," Molly said, handling out one of the envelopes to Harry, who took his. "About time, I thought they'd forgotten- they usually come much earlier than this."

He then opened his letter: It contained two pieces of parchment, one the usual reminder that term started on the first of September, and the other telling him which books he would need for the coming year. "Only two new ones," he said, reading the list. _"The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5,_ by Miranda Goshawk and _Defensive Magical Theory,_ by Wilbert Slinkhard."

"Wonder who will be the Prefect this year?" Fred asked as George turned towards him. "Perhaps that Midgen girl?"

"nah."

"What's up with you, Ron?" asked Fred. "You seem too silent."

Ron did not answer. Harry looked around. Ron was standing very still with his mouth slightly open, gaping at his letter from Hogwarts.

"What's the matter?" said Fred impatiently, moving around Ron to look over his shoulder at the parchment. Fred's mouth fell open too.

"Prefect?" he said, staring incredulously at the letter. " _Prefect_?" George leapt forward, seized the envelope in Ron's other hand, and turned it upside down. Harry saw something scarlet and gold fall into George's palm.

"No way," said George in a hushed voice. "There's been a mistake," said Fred, snatching the letter out of Ron's grasp and holding it up to the light as though checking for a watermark. "No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect..."

The twins' heads turned in unison and both of them stared at Harry.

"We thought you were a cert!" said Fred in a tone that suggested Harry had tricked them in some way. "We thought Dumbledore was _bound_ to pick you!" said George indignantly. "I suppose all the mad stuff must've counted against him," said George to Fred.

"Yeah," said Fred slowly. "Yeah, you've caused too much trouble, mate. Well, at least one of you's got their priorities right." He strode over to Harry and clapped him on the back while giving Ron a scathing look. " _Prefect.._. ickle Ronnie the prefect."

"Oh, Mum's going to be revolting," groaned George, thrusting the prefect badge back at Ron as though it might contaminate him. Ron, who still had not said a word, took the badge, stared at it for a moment, and then held it out to Harry as though asking mutely for confirmation that it was genuine. Harry took it. A large P was superimposed on the Gryffindor lion. He had seen a badge just like this on Percy's chest on his very first day at Hogwarts.

Harry turned towards Hermione, who looked as if Christmas had come early. She was staring at the prefect badge that had fallen out of her envelope. Hermione looked at her badge, and finally sure that it was not a dream, turned towards Ron. At first, it did not make any sense. No one in the right mind would make Ron a prefect, not when Harry was on the line anyway.

Then a thought flashed into her mind.

 _ **"Of course, I will see to it that none of your efforts go in vain. I understand and value your contributions for Magical Britain, and I will make sure to try and repay a little part of it back in due time."**_

The Headmaster had indicated towards this. This was the way he was trying to repay the contributions she and Ron were making for the country. Ron always wanted to have some spotlight, something that being Prefect would give him. Hermione always had a love for rules, and wanted to enforce them. Being a prefect would make that easy too. Besides, it would help her get access to the restricted section too.

 _Thank you, Headmaster._

It felt good to know that someone who paid attention to her efforts. After all, there was a reason why they were Professors, she uttered in her mind.

The breakfast followed with Molly Weasley shrieking with delight at her 'Ronnie made Prefect, that's practically everyone in the family', and the twins' indignant statements in return. It was almost funny, though a part of Harry also wished that someone would have noticed his efforts and considered him for the Prefect's position. After all, he had done a lot more things than 'little Ronnie', he thought bitterly.

 _They did not fight Quirrell with me. They did not take on Riddle and the basilisk. They did not get rid of all those dementors the night Sirius escaped. They were not in that graveyard with me, the night Voldemort returned. I've definitely done more,"_ Harry thought indignantly. _"I've done more than either of them!"_

His mind gave him the answer.

 _Dumbledore. Dumbledore did not give me the badge because I did not stoop to play, as he wanted. I stopped being his little golden Gryffindor boy. Well, he made the wrong choice. Let them take the badges. I will take my triumph when I become the greatest wizard in the world._

 _Wait..._

The greatest wizard in the world? Where did that thought come from? While he knew that he was ambitious, he had hid it well, and always worked to save everyone from the perils in the school.

 _Did you?_

The voice sounded eerie. His mind spoke to him again.

 _Did you really fight Quirrel because he wanted the stone? Or did you do it because you wanted to stop Voldemort from killing you?_

 _Did you really fight the basilisk for Ginny Weasley? Or was it because you were afraid that they would close the school and you would have to return to the Dursleys?_

 _Did you fight the hundred dementors to save Sirius? Or did you do it because Sirius was your biggest hope to be away from the Dursleys?_

Harry stayed silent.

 _I love Sirius._

 _Of course you do. However, that does not hide the fact that you are ambitious, Harry Potter. Use that ambition, and become the best-damned wizard that you can be._ His mind returned.

 _The greatest wizard of the wizard... would being the most powerful be so bad? If I were powerful, then Voldemort would fear of me. If I were powerful, Dumbledore would not try to manipulate me. If I were powerful, morons like Fudge would be scared of me. If I am powerful, I can save Sirius and those I call my own._

 _I have to be powerful. The greatest wizard in the world._

His wand sparked powerfully, releasing grayish sparks as if it shared his emotions.

 _To Greatness._

He smiled.

* * *

 **September 1, 1995.**

Finally, it was time to leave for Hogwarts. Harry stood inside his room, as Sirius double-checked everything for him.

"Broom?"

"Checked." Harry replied automatically. Sirius had given him a birthday gift in private, something that had shocked the minds of everyone. The Thunderbolt. The latest version of the Firebolt, which was much better than the Firebolt model. As it was, the broom was only available through personal order, and would reach the open market after a year. It had simply been amazing, though he had ignored the green look on Ron's face. A part of him felt glad, reminding him that he had felt something similar when Ron had gotten the Prefect's badge.

"Trunk?"

"Checked." This was another impulsive buy. After seeing Moody's seven-compartment trunk, this was one thing Harry had decided to buy. He had bought it the day Sirius had taken him to Gringotts for the Black inheritance. It was a standard four-compartment trunk with a wide variety of protections. It even had a small closet room to sleep in, but it seemed eerily similar to the Dursley cupboard for Harry to feel comfortable.

"Dagger belt?"

"Checked." It was another gift from Sirius. A belt that enabled him to hold a set of daggers, miniaturized using contraction charms, poisoned with venom. It was a Black family heirloom. Harry had gotten quite skilled at fighting with daggers, and had decided to keep it with himself. Besides, the entire thing was warded with a notice-me-not charm, making it out of sight for inquisitive people.

"Mirror?"

"Checked." This was the communication device that James and Sirius had created in their sixth year. It was a pair of enchanted mirrors with which they could converse with each other. Sirius had promised that he would keep Harry updated about everything and Harry had promised the same in return.

"Grimoires?"

"Checked." He had taken a decision to take the grimoires with him to school. Sirius had the entire library to himself if he wanted to have a read, and hence he did not have any problems with it.

"Harry Potter?"

"Checked." Harry smirked.

"Very well. Ready to go." Sirius hugged him, and Harry hugged him back. For the first time, it felt odd returning to Hogwarts. Perhaps because this was the first time he was leaving family and a home he called his own to go to Hogwarts. Minutely, he wondered if this was how others felt like when they left for Hogwarts at the age of eleven.

It took them twenty minutes to reach King's Cross by foot and nothing more eventful happened during that time than Sirius scaring a couple of cats for Harry's entertainment. Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through onto platform nine and three quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stood belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families. Harry inhaled the familiar smell and felt his spirits drop... it felt odd now that he was leaving Black Townhouse and moving to Hogwarts for a year. He wondered over his decision to make Sirius stay back at the house and not come with them to the station. He ignored the commotion, the rest of the Order members were causing, especially the fuss that Mrs. Weasley was causing with little Ronnie's prefect badge and his new trunk and everything. He could hear Moody telling everyone something along the lines of ... "don't forget, all of you — careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don't put it in a letter at all." Harry tuned everything out as he found himself a compartment and took a window seat. This was going to be a very long journey.


	10. Chapter 10 :On the Express

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _It took them twenty minutes to reach King's Cross by foot and nothing more eventful happened during that time than Sirius scaring a couple of cats for Harry's entertainment. Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through onto platform nine and three quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stood belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families. Harry inhaled the familiar smell and felt his spirits drop... it felt odd now that he was leaving Black Townhouse and moving to Hogwarts for a year. He wondered over his decision to make Sirius stay back at the house and not come with them to the station. He ignored the commotion, the rest of the Order members were causing, especially the fuss that Mrs. Weasley was causing with little Ronnie's prefect badge and his new trunk and everything. He could hear Moody telling everyone something along the lines of ... "don't forget, all of you — careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don't put it in a letter at all." Harry tuned everything out as he found himself a compartment and took a window seat. This was going to be a very long journey._

* * *

" _ **Daphne, the dark lord is back, and no matter what the Ministry stooges might say, he is back and definitely on his way for another rise. The last time I had sufficed by making some donations to his camp, but I am afraid this time, he won't allow anyone to remain neutral."**_

" _ **So what do you want me to do, Father?"**_

" _ **I am afraid that there will be no bystanders this time, including our family, and as the Lord of Greengrass, my top priority will be to ensure that my family survives the oncoming disaster."**_

" _ **So we are going to support the Dark Lord?" Daphne surmised.**_

" _ **No." Cyrus deadpanned. "I lost my brother to his service. The dark lord cares for no one, but himself. There is no loyalty in his heart, only ambition and a quest to be above all."**_

 _ **Daphne stayed quiet.**_

" _ **The Malfoy brat has tried to court your younger sister three times so far. I am told that you have intimidated him away. I am afraid that this time it isn't going to work."**_

" _ **You want Astoria to allow Malfoy to court her."**_

" _ **Yes," Cyrus sighed. "The Malfoy scion, for all intents and purposes, is nothing like his father. If he courts Astoria, it will automatically ensure that our House will stay safe from the Dark Lord's wrath."**_

 _ **Daphne nodded.**_

" _ **I want you to feel up Harry Potter."**_

" _ **Excuse me?"**_

" _ **You heard me, Daphne. I want you to get closer to Potter, sense his powers and his strength. It is obvious that Potter holds significant political power, and if the rumors are correct, his magical prowess is beyond ordinary."**_

" _ **Potter is at most, an above-average in academics." Daphne frowned.**_

" _ **I did not expect my daughter to be so short-sighted. Tell me my dear, how is it that an above-average student won the Triwizard Tournament competing against three adults?"**_

" _ **Luck?" Daphne supplied.**_

" _ **Luck can only go so far. I am afraid either Potter is hiding his true strengths, or he is underprepared and has a ton of unused and unhoned power. Either way, it is clear that the Light side will be fighting under Potter's banner, and not Dumbledore."**_

" _ **Potter is Dumbledore's golden boy." Daphne defended.**_

" _ **We will see, my dear. We will see."**_

Daphne walked past the lengthy train corridor, her disillusionment charm holding up very nicely as she walked slowly and carefully, past the individual compartments that housed the students going to Hogwarts. Knowing Potter, he was sure to be in some compartment with the Weasel and the beaver, and neither of them was her type. Then again, Potter was someone she _would not_ touch with a nine-foot long pole either way. The silencing charm worked perfectly, and should one notice carefully, they would spot nothing than a blur in the air. Then again, no one had ever accused Hogwarts' students to be great observers.

She had passed most of the compartments, and had spotted the Longbottom boy and one blonde girl sitting together, chatting amiably about stuff out of her interest. Potter wasn't there, and neither were Granger and Weasley. She was just about to leave when the sound of oncoming footsteps stopped her. Daphne paused, and stood still, holding her breath.

Granger and Weasley crossed her and entered the compartment. As expected, Granger went for the window seat and lifted a book out of her trunk while Weasley predictably, took out a beef sandwich and shoved it down his throat.

Daphne felt disgusted. However, her cunning instincts all but forced her to stay and listen to their mindless droning. Apparently, Granger and Weasley were the new Gryffindor Prefects. Daphne rolled her eyes. Mcgonagall must have been having one of her periods when she had decided on making those two morons as Prefects. Anyone with an eye for observation could notice how almost everyone that was not in Gryffindor hated Granger on principle. Weasley... well he was _Weasley_. Full stop.

 _But where is Potter?_

Her hand slowly went up to her ear as she carefully twisted her earring, as the rune activated. Instantly, the voices became much more distinct and audible than before. Daphne was very proud of her earrings. She had enchanted them the previous year using a very carefully merged form of the sound-amplification charm and the stealth rune, helping her to hear inaudible conversations with excellent audibility. It wasn't eavesdropping, she told herself. After all, it was other's fault that they were not cautious enough to raise privacy wards when having private conversations.

 _Harry Potter is not friends with these two? How the fuck did that happen?_

She closed in.

"Harry has changed," Granger was saying, "he has spent the entire summer studying dark magic. His behavior has changed, and even Dumbledore has noticed it."

Daphne wondered for a moment how the bushy beaver met with Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore over the summer break, but she held on.

"It's almost like he doesn't recognize us, mate." Weasley emphasized, "All the time we were downstairs, and he didn't even come down for a match of chess."

How cruel... Daphne thought sarcastically. So, these morons were staying with Harry Potter, but wasn't Potter staying at his muggle relatives every summer?

Her mind went back to the newspaper article. Right. His relatives were killed, so did that mean he was living with Dumbledore? Moreover, what were Granger and Weasley doing there? Something was wrong and-

"That's a very good demonstration of the disillusionment charm."

Any other person would have spun around in a matter of milliseconds, but Daphne Greengrass was not any other person. She stiffened as she heard the voice, her mind recognizing it instantly. By some cruel stance of Fate, Harry _bloody_ Potter was standing behind her. Her breath on hold, Daphne tried to see through the corners as much as she could without making the slightest movement, since movement was the key to spotting someone under the charm. Surprisingly, Harry Potter seemed uninterested in her presence or her reason to be there. In fact, he did not even consider that a Slytherin was standing there, right in front of the door. It was all so puzzling.

Potter entered into the compartment, facing the Longbottom boy. Anyone else would have missed it, but Daphne noticed the slight movement of his wand and a slight simmer in the air as a privacy ward took effect. Potter discussed something with the Longbottom boy, before leaving the compartment. Daphne noticed that he did not even give a passing glance to the Weasel and the beaver as he departed.

Daphne let her breath out, not realizing that she had been holding it for quite long. Something had fundamentally shifted between Potter's golden Trio. In fact, something about Potter seemed very different. Previously, he was brawny, always running into the fight wand waving, wearing his emotions on his sleeve. Now though... it was almost as if he had changed completely. There was no way the golden Gryffindor could become someone this cold and composed. It was almost...

 _Slytherin._

There was something different, something interesting, which was going on. And Daphne would be damned not to figure out what it was.

* * *

 **Sometime earlier...**

Harry was sitting alone inside a compartment. If Hagrid had been there, he would have been overjoyed at finding a fire-breathing dragon. Indeed, Harry's fists were so tight that it hurt and blood slowly trickled through them, drop by drop on the floor. His eyes were red with rage, his heart wounded and lost in vengeance. To think he was thinking of giving the two bastards another chance...

He pondered over the workings of fate. No, not fate. Dumbledore. The wily old man who had, one after the other, slowly snatched away every good thing in his life. He had removed him from Godric's Hollow, and left him to suffer at the Dursleys, destroying his chance at a childhood. He had suffered all his early life, knowing that he was a freak and that his parents were worthless drunks who killed each other in a cars accident. Then, after returning to Hogwarts, the man had placed the stone in school, and he had to fight Voldemort for his life. The same happened with the basilisk and then with the dementors, and the tournament and the...

He felt tired.

And now the old man just had to bribe his friends to spy on him. The sad thing was- he should have seen it coming. It was almost ironic that the revelation was the result of a prank...

" _ **Come on Ron, it is time for our patrol duties." Hermione ordered snobbishly. Ron looked mortified at the thought of serving and maintaining order among students, as was visible from his face. Ginny laughed childishly and even Harry had a smirk on his face.**_

" _ **What's the hurry, Hermione?" Ron protested, but shut up under the brown-haired witch's glare. Ron gulped.**_

" _ **If we do not serve our role properly, what will the younger ones learn from us?" Hermione began but Ron cut her off. "Come now Hermione, no need to be so- okay, okay, I am coming." Ron raised his hands in surrender as the two of them began to get up from the couch.**_

" _ **Ron doesn't want to upset her, because he has got a crush on her." Ginny whispered to Harry up close, making him raise his eyebrows. It made sense, given the way Ron had allowed Hermione to run over him all summer. He might not have spent much time with them but even he wasn't that oblivious.**_

" _ **He wants to get her to kiss him." Ginny explained animatedly. Harry smirked as a little prank germinated in his mind. Raising his finger in a completely unassuming manner, he thought of the monitoring charm. Immediately, he could feel a magical point on Ron, as his spell now told him what Ron was talking at the moment.**_

 _ **It was almost hilarious, the way the two of them were bickering like an old married couple. He heard Ron yell out as Hermione pushed him into another compartment, preferably private, he mused. He was half-way between deciding whether he wanted to hear what the clumsy couple did behind hidden doors when-**_

" _ **Shut it Ron, this type of attitude won't work. You know Dumbledore gave us the Prefect posts for a reason."**_

 _ **All thoughts of pranking and fun vaporized from Harry's mind. His breath turned slow as he listened.**_

" _ **What do you mean Dumbledore gave us the-"**_

" _ **Stop being an idiot. You know very well that no one in the right mind would choose you as a prefect. Especially when Harry is in the line."**_

 _ **Ron grunted angrily. "You too, Hermione, you also think that I am less than-"**_

" _ **Shut it, Ron. You and I both know it. His grades are better than yours are. He has saved the school so many times."**_

" _ **We were also there." Ron defended angrily.**_

" _ **We were, but he is the one whose name came on top. He is Harry Potter for Merlin's sake. Do you really think that Mcgonagall would have chosen you over him?" Hermione scolded condescendingly.**_

 _ **Harry almost imagined Ron to be green with envy.**_

" _ **You know very well that Dumbledore told us that he would pay us back because of the service we are doing for the Order." Hermione explained with a rush. "You wanted limelight, and now you have it. You are a Prefect, as am I. Now if you do not do the Prefect duties, he is going to be angry. Do you want that to happen?"**_

 _ **Ron grunted.**_

" _ **Plus with your fight with Harry, he is already cold towards the both of us. Now if for your laziness, Dumbledore gets angry on us, I am not going to stand it." She huffed.**_

 _ **Harry had had enough. He got up slowly, his mind lost in emotional turmoil. All those memories he had with his friends, and they had sold him out to Dumbledore for favors. Excusing himself, he escaped out of the compartment, not willing to stay inside it any longer.**_

A part of him wanted vengeance for the betrayal. A part of him wanted to simply go to Hogwarts and punch the old bastard in the face. A part of him wanted to simply forget everything else and cry.

 _I will not let the old bastard win. They chose him over me, so let that be it. I will get over it. I will leave them back as I progress on my path to become the greatest wizard of the world._

His aura flared. His wand began sparking as a sudden change came over his demeanor. Then he remembered- his trunk. He still had his trunk in that compartment. Getting up, he walked back to the compartment, hoping against hope that he should not meet the two betrayers on the way. Knowing his anger, he was not sure what he would do.

He walked past the long corridor of the train, steadily towards the compartment. He was just about to enter the compartment when he noticed the slight shimmer in the air.

 _A disillusionment charm._

Someone was standing at the door, eavesdropping on the inmates of the compartment. He could see Neville and another girl sitting inside the compartment. Whoever it was, was eavesdropping on their private conversations.

"That's a very good demonstration of the disillusionment charm."

Whoever it was, he or she was good, _really_ good. One of the easiest ways of trying to detect a disillusionment charm was to check for movement. Harry could see the person get completely still, all most unto to the point of not breathing, until said person were almost a slight shimmer in the air. Whoever it was, was trying very hard to keep from being discovered. Harry almost smirked. He could see the betrayers inside, talking amongst themselves. For a moment, he thought to unmask the eavesdropper, but then he let it go.

 _What does it matter to me anyway?_

He walked into the compartment, and found everyone looking at him. Waving his wand with the shortest possible movement, he raised a privacy ward. He raised his wand as his trunk shrunk and came down to him.

"Hey Harry, nice to see you." Neville wished. The other blonde girl was busy looking at some kind of magazine, though he could see that it was inverted.

"Harry mate, where were you?" Weasley asked. Granger smiled at him. Nobody noticed how Harry's fingers gripped his wand tighter.

"Nice to meet you Neville," Harry wished, trying his level best to keep his emotions under control. The last time he had lost control, the Black family magic had poised to strike down everyone in the room. He did not want that to happen _. Not now, anyway._

He kept a tight rein on his emotions as he gave a passing glance towards the betrayers, his expressionless façade seeing through Hermione's smile and Ron's enthusiasm.

Fake. He told himself. All fake.

 _I need to be out of here._

He walked out of the compartment, ignoring the eavesdropper and the betrayers behind.

* * *

 **Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton.**

"What news do you bring, Selwyn?"

The man in black knelt in front of him, his face hidden by the white death eater mask. He kissed the helm of the dark lord' robes. "My lord," he began, lifting the mask to reveal his face, "Potter is returning to Hogwarts. The Ministry is still against Dumbledore and Potter, though Umbridge's attempt at killing Potter had the opposite reaction that she intended."

"Umbridge," Voldemort mused, "Pureblood, ruthless and holds a position of power. Perhaps we can influence her to join our cause."

"I don't believe it will be difficult, my Lord. The woman is perhaps the most extreme when it comes to the pureblood cause. Most of the laws against creatures are forwarded by that woman."

"Interesting. How is the progress at the Department of Mysteries going on?"

"We have a new spy at the place. The process of trying to extract the prophecy orb is under process, but the presence of the Order is making things difficult." Selwyn commented.

"The Order is of no consequence. Continue your work with full force. If it comes to open battle, I will reveal myself if I must. The orb remains top priority."

"Of course, my lord." Selwyn commented, standing up and leaving the room, leaving the dark lord alone to his musings.

"Something is wrong with the Potter boy, Nagini," the dark lord hissed in Parseltongue, as the great snake coiled around his arm. "Something about the boy troubles me."

He had thought about the matter a lot, but he was still unable to get any inference from it so far. It was simply impossible, the way the events of the night of the Third task had unfolded. He distinctly remembered setting up anti-apparation, anti-portkey wards and even special anti-phoenix wards by a private ward master. Yes, the Triwizard Cup was indeed a two-way portkey but that was insignificant. The anti-portkey wards would have prevented it from portkeying Harry Potter away. Yet...

The more he thought about it, the more it made even less sense. He was the dark lord Voldemort. He knew better than to stand around, boasting how he had captured his enemy when said enemy lay tied in front of him. He should have thrown a killing curse at Potter, finished him for good, and then called up everyone else and boasted.

But no...He had not done that. He had been overcome by his vanity, and took his time to boast about his accomplishment, giving that brat to think of an escape plan. Somehow, the boy had an ace up his sleeve. However, even that, did not matter. Hubris or not, he was the dark lord Voldemort, there was no way a teenager could have bested him in a battle of wills. It was unfathomable. Three main questions still troubled him. Questions that he had no way of getting an answer to.

 _How did Potter best me in a battle of wills? It is impossible that his magical power is the same as my own if not more._

 _How is it that a brat with nothing more than four years of magical education escaped the attacks of twenty-two death eaters and himself, escaping away with the Cup, alongside the other boy's body? There was simply no way that he could have deflected all of those curses that had rained down at him._

 _What happened to the wards? How was it that the normal two-way portkey broke out through the anti-apparation wards designed by Lord Voldemort himself?_

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Importantly, that feeling of wrongness was centered on Harry Potter. The boy was an enigma, and Lord Voldemort could not help but reverberate the words that had brought his doom the first time around...

 **"The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches...  
born to those who have thrice defied him...  
born as the seventh month dies..."**

 _What is this power? What is so special about Harry Potter that he continues to evade me every single time? What power is it that can vanquish me?_

He stroked his familiar caringly. "I need the entire contents of the Prophecy, Nagini. Only the entire prophecy will solve the enigma that is Harry Potter."

Nagini hissed loudly, reverberating her Master's emotions.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **I will take this time to answer a few questions asked to me in the reviews. First and foremost, I want to state that the response has been overwhelming. I never imagined that my story would get almost 500 followers in the first week. Thank you.**

 **I will try to answer the questions asked right from the first review onwards until the ones asked in Chapter 9. In case I miss something, please inform me privately on PM or post it in another review. As long as it is not a spoiler, I will answer.**

 **How long will the story be? I expect it to finish by the end of sixth year or maximum seventh year Halloween. I am anticipating a word count of 300k.**

 **My update schedule? I am afraid I am a very moody person. It all depends upon my mood and of course, my work schedule. Unless I am awfully busy, I will try to upload at least one chapter every two days. However, in case I have something else in mind or am engaged in some different pursuits, the updates might take some time.**

 **I stole this story? I am honestly intrigued by your proposition. If you can indeed find someone who has this story posted before I did, I will accept your accusation. However, I would advise you to make sure your accusation holds merit before you go and mindlessly spew it. Thank you very much.**

 **What is Bill's father going to do with the information? I am afraid you will have to wait to find out.**

 **Clone or time-traveler? I do not know.**

 **How am I updating so quickly? Interesting. Well here goes. I DO NOT write chapters in advance. I am a more of a spontaneous person. My day job leaves me free in the evenings, which I use to write the chapter and post it instantly. Whenever you see a chapter's notification on your email. Understand that it has been written in the previous two to three hours and posted instantly.**

 **The goblins aren't helpful. They are simply ambitious and know that their customers are bringers of more gold. You aren't going to be anything other than HELPFUL to people who bring you wealth, unless you are exceptional (I believe that is the modern, unassuming word which translates to RETARD).**

 **Stupid manipulative Dumbledore? I am not sure when Dumbledore demonstrated any kind of stupidity so far. Just because Sirius and Harry ran circles around his plan and caught him off-guard doesn't make him stupid. Does it?**

 **Hermione and Ron. To be honest, I am not in love with those two characters. As for this story, I needed them in the story but outside the main picture. They are important, but in a different kind of way. I like to think as a form of a stupid idiot and will continue to paint him in that color. It is not bashing, it is just the way he is. I am simply trying to play with the canon characters and storyline and putting my own twists in the middle. Harry is not some super Slytherin, super intelligent, super powerful wizard. He has his limits, his weaknesses and his flaws. To be honest, even canon Harry demonstrated a huge amount of power. Not my fault if JKR never decided to use that plot and instead did her best to show him as a weak retard.**

 **Last but not the least, I am very, very thankful to everyone who has been reading, reviewing and following this story. Your reviews are always welcome and hope you will continue to like my story.**


	11. Chapter 11 :First Day and Pranks

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _"Nice to meet you Neville," Harry wished, trying his level best to keep his emotions under control. The last time he had lost control, the Black family magic had poised to strike down everyone in the room. He did not want that to happen. Not now, anyway._

 _He kept a tight rein on his emotions as he gave a passing glance towards the betrayers, his expressionless façade seeing through Hermione's smile and Ron's enthusiasm._

 _Fake. He told himself. All fake._

 _I need to be out of here._

 _He walked out of the compartment, ignoring the eavesdropper and the betrayers behind._

* * *

The Hogwarts Express gave out another high-pitched whistle as it slowed down, indicating that Hogsmeade station was within reach. It released a huge row of steam outward as it came to a halt. Students, new and older, got down from the compartments, dressed in their Hogwarts robes as they proceeded towards the carriages (for the older students) while the newer ones stayed back to go alongside professor Grubbly-plank.

Noticing Hagrid's absence, Harry deduced it to some mission for the Order. He had seen Hagrid at many occasions during the Order meetings and walked ahead. The other students were still far-behind as he had walked off earlier. Neither Weasley nor Granger was anywhere near him, so he allowed himself to be shunted forward onto the dark rain-washed road outside Hogsmeade station.

Here stood the hundred or so horseless stagecoaches that always took the students above first year up to the castle. Harry glanced quickly at them and then did a double take.

The carriages were no longer horseless.

The four-legged creatures might look like horses on first sight, but they were not. In fact, there were more reptilian than mammalian. They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads were dragonish, and their pupil-less eyes white and staring. Wings sprouted from each wither — vast, black leathery wings that looked as though they ought to belong to giant bats. Standing still and quiet in the gloom, the creatures looked eerie and sinister.

"Thestrals." He whispered.

Almost as if in response, the thestral closest to him looked towards him, the white eyes staring into his bright green. Almost subconsciously, his right hand went up as a bright light washed out of him, manifesting the ethereal Patronus that had been the origin of all changes about him. The Patronus trotted slowly towards the real creature, as they stood head-to-head. The bright light ebbing from the Patronus attracted the other thestrals, who turned to stare at it.

"You don't see that often."

Harry spun around. It was the same blonde girl from the compartment. On closer look, the girl had a dreamy look in her eyes, wore long radish-earrings and a necklace of butterbeer caps. She had an aura of distinct dottiness. While he was not pleased that someone was able to sneak behind him so easily, he could not help but ask her something else.

"Do you see them as well?"

"Oh yes," said Luna, "I've been able to see them ever since my first day here. They've always pulled the carriages."

Harry widened his eyes, as he understood the significance of the statement. "Whom did you watch...?" He left the question open-ended.

"My mother. She died when I was nine."

Harry nodded out of sympathy. Luna looked at him simply.

"How did it happen?"

"A charms accident. My mother was an accomplished spell-creator, and was working on something, when it went wrong and she killed herself." If not for the way she was- Harry would have assumed that the girl was almost emotionless.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Is this the first time you are able to see Thestrals?"

Harry nodded.

"Well that makes two of us. People say that thestrals are a bad omen, because only those who have seen Death can see them. I think they are very nice, though." She paused, "though, this is the first time I have seen a thestral as a Patronus."

Harry shrugged.

"You are a very interesting wizard, Harry Potter,"

Harry did not even ask how she knew his name. It was a given. However, her next words stumped him.

"-I mean, you have the horse of Death as your protector. I would have wanted a crumple-horned snorkack as my protector."

Harry flinched at her words. His curiosity piqued, he questioned. "Crumble-horned what?"

Luna stared at him in horror. The boy didn't know! "Crumple. Horned. Snorkack." She paused after each word, allowing him to comprehend it properly.

"Right."

"I can tell you all about them, but if we do not leave now, the school will likely miss seeing a smelly toad."

Harry scrunched his face, trying to decipher what the girl might have meant. "All right." He saw the other students arriving, and not wanting to sit with his friends, he went to the first carriage and sat into it, and Luna climbed back soon after. In matter of minutes, the carriage was full and it set off- _horseless_ as it was, trotting on its own towards the school gates.

He never noticed the faint shimmer of air standing a few steps behind where he was talking with Luna.

* * *

The entrance hall was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors to the right, leading to the Great Hall and the start-of-term feast. The four long House tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows. Candles floated in midair all along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly to one another, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other Houses, eyeing one another's new haircuts and robes. Again Harry noticed people putting their heads together to whisper as he passed; it was expected given the whimsical nature of Britain's population, so he tried to act as though he neither noticed nor cared.

Luna drifted away towards the Ravenclaw table as he moved towards the Gryffindor one. Finding a seat next to the twins and their friend Lee Jordan, he sat up comfortably.

"Having trouble, Harrikins?" Fred, or was that George asked. Harry swore to figure it out someday which was which. He nodded, "Just wanting some private time." Fred seemed to understand and dropped the line of questioning.

"So Harry, ready for the mess for this year?" Lee grinned.

"Mess?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Yes," Lee bent towards him and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "You see Harry, ever since you have come to Hogwarts; there has been continuous entertainment and adventure every year. We were kind of hoping, that you would tell us what you have in mind this year."

"A boring year." Harry drawled. "It will be a good change."

"Fat chance." Fred retorted.

Harry rolled his eyes. He could see Hagrid missing at the staff table. Weasley and Granger had sat a few seats across him. Even from that distance, he could hear them quite well.

"He can't have left," said Weasley, sounding slightly anxious.

"Of course he hasn't," said Hermione firmly.

"But where is he, then?"

There was a pause, then Granger said very quietly, or at least what she thought as quiet. "Maybe he's not back yet. You know — from his mission — the thing he was doing over the summer for Dumbledore."

Harry rolled his eyes. The clumsy couple was indeed funny if they thought themselves as secret agents. With the way they were pouring information all over the place, it was a wonder that the death eaters hadn't yet found and murdered a few Order members. He wondered how long it would take Weasley to jump up on the Astronomy Tower with a megaphone and yell out classified Order information to anyone who would listen.

He looked at the staff table again. His eyes lit first upon Dumbledore, sitting in his high-backed golden chair at the center of the long staff table, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat. Harry controlled his anger from lashing out at the sight of the despicable old man. Dumbledore's head was inclined toward the woman sitting next to him, who was talking into his ear. She looked, Harry thought, like somebody's maiden aunt- squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed a horrible pink band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Then she turned her face slightly to take a sip from her goblet and he saw, with a shock of recognition, a pallid, toad like face and a pair of prominent, pouchy eyes.

"That's Umbridge." Lee commented, finding Harry staring at her.

"Umbridge?"

"Yeah. She is the Minister's senior undersecretary." The short boy explained.

"Under—what?"

"Undersecretary. Horrible woman. My Dad hates her."

Somehow, Harry couldn't find it within himself to disagree with him. Something about the woman felt odd, almost despicable to him. Perhaps it was because of the over splattering of pink on her robes, something that reminded him about Petunia Dursley, not a very good first impression.

After the rather long and different song sung by the Sorting Hat, the sorting began as he watched the first-years were sorted into their respective Houses. He ignored Weasley's nonsense chatter as he tried to pronounce words while shoving food down his throat. It was so repulsive that Harry wondered for a moment how on earth he ever stayed friends with the Moron- uh, with Ron. He felt it was a better use of his time to eat his way steadily through his steak-and-kidney pie, then a large plateful of his favorite treacle tart.

Dumbledore got up. Harry ignored him.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." He paused for a moment. There were a few whispers and some clapping. Apparently, no one thought too high about the pink-clad woman. Dumbledore continued. ""Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the —"

"Hem-Hem!"

He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, " _Hem, hem,_ " and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech. Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, and then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair, and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Harry had ever seen it. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome." Her voice was high-pitched, breathy, and little girlish and once again, Harry felt a powerful rush of dislike that he could not explain to himself; all he knew was that he loathed everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan. She gave another little throat-clearing cough (" _Hem, hem_ ") and continued.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

Harry glanced around. None of the faces he could see looked happy; on the contrary, they all looked rather taken aback at being addressed as though they were five years old.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

 _Somehow, I doubt that._

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again (" _Hem, hem_ "), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills-"

Harry tuned out, not willing to hear whatever Ministry-enforced propaganda this woman was showering upon everyone. It seemed just like Fudge to send a Ministry enforcer to Hogwarts to suppress his voice.

 _I doubt Fudge knows that my ideas have changed._

Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. Harry had the impression that a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have plowed on with her speech. The teachers, however, were still listening very attentively. Harry tuned in once again.

"Some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability-"

In short, the Ministry was interfering with Hogwarts. The previous Harry would have found it infuriating, but the new Harry could not help but get amusement from it. Speaking of amusement...

 _I wonder how accountable and effective our new Defense Professor is._

He raised his left hand in an unassuming manner, and focused hard on a single charm that Sirius had told him about, while recollecting his Marauder days. His eyes glowed as the charm took effect. He pushed his arm all the way at the back of his head, rubbing his neck for a moment before bringing his arm down.

Umbridge continued obliviously. "-Intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," Dumbledore said, bowing to her. "Now — as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held on-"

He had to stop midway because something else had happened.

Just as Umbridge had bowed to the other staff and reached to sit down, a huge drawled out sound reverberated from her posterior, something that sounded like a rather loud fart. The smell that accompanied it suited it ostensibly.

The Great Hall dissolved in peals of laughter, as the great pink woman stood up; her face flushed with embarrassment as she got out of the staff table and hurried herself into the antechamber. Harry could see Mcgonagall glaring daggers at the twins who for a change, looked oblivious to her stare, and were instead busy wondering who it was that was giving them an open challenge in phenomenal pranking.

 _She does look like a toad._ Harry wondered to himself. Then it hit him. _A smelly toad? How did she-?_

Instantly, his eyes darted off towards the Ravenclaw table where Luna Lovegood was sitting obliviously.

 _Interesting._

* * *

He had reached the end of the corridor to the Gryffindor common room and had come to a halt in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady before he realized that he did not know the new password.

"Er..." he said glumly, staring up at the Fat Lady, who smoothed the folds of her pink satin dress and looked sternly back at him. "No password, no entrance," she said loftily.

"Harry, I know it!" someone panted from behind him, and he turned to see Neville jogging toward him. "Guess what it is? I'm actually going to be able to remember it for once —" He waved the stunted little cactus he had shown them on the train. " _Mimbulus mimbletonia_!"

"Correct," said the Fat Lady, and her portrait swung open toward them like a door, revealing a circular hole in the wall behind, through which Harry and Neville now climbed.

The Gryffindor common room looked the same, a cozy circular tower room full of dilapidated squashy armchairs and rickety old tables. A fire was crackling merrily in the grate and a few people were warming their hands before going up to their dormitories; on the other side of the room Fred and George Weasley were pinning something up on the notice board. Harry waved good night to them and headed straight for the door to the boys' dormitories; he was not in much of a mood for talkin. Neville followed him.

 _Never thought that I would miss my own room more than Gryffindor tower._

He pushed the door abruptly and found Dean and Seamus talking to each other. They stopped instantly as they saw him entering. Wondering how much longer he would have to deal with the whisperings, he ignored the two and went towards his bed.

"Hey, Harry," said Dean, who was putting on a pair of pajamas in the West Ham colors. "Good holiday?"

"Not bad," muttered Harry, as a true account of his holiday would have taken most of the night to relate and he could not face it. "You?"

"Yeah, it was okay," chuckled Dean. "Better than Seamus's anyway, he was just telling me."

"Why, what happened, Seamus?" Neville asked as he placed his _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ tenderly on his bedside cabinet.

Seamus did not answer immediately; he was making rather a meal of ensuring that his poster of the Kenmare Kestrels Quidditch team was quite straight. Then he said, with his back still turned to Harry, "Me mam didn't want me to come back."

Understandably, it did not end the conversation. Instead, that resulted in a giant explanation about how his 'mam' thought that Harry was crazy and was fooling around and she did not want him to come to Hogwarts and stay in the same dorm with him.

"Well, you can always take up another dorm." Harry shrugged uncaringly, as he pulled the covers. "Good night, guys." He turned off the light.

Whatever Seamus might have expected, this was not it. Silently, he turned towards Dean who shrugged and then back to Neville who was tending his plant. Not sure what to say, he mumbled 'Good night' and went off to sleep.

* * *

The matter did not end over there. The next morning, Harry woke up to find Seamus and Ron (Weasley) shouting at each other. Seamus looked affronted while Ron was red in the face (which translated to being infuriated).

"You believe all the rubbish he's come out with about You-Know-Who, do you; you reckon he's telling the truth?"

"Yeah, I do!" said Ron angrily.

"Then you're mad too," said Seamus in disgust.

"Yeah? Well unfortunately for you, pal, I'm also a prefect!" said Ron, jabbing himself in the chest with a finger. "So unless you want detention, watch your mouth!"

Had he not discovered his true intentions, Harry would have felt a flush of pride for his friend. Now though... it all seemed like an act. The raw truth hung like a pallor over him.

 _I have no true friends._

"We believe Harry," Neville said simply. Harry spotted Neville climb out of bed and stride towards Seamus. "My gran's always said You-Know-Who would come back one day. She says if Dumbledore says he's back, he's back."

 _Of course._

It seemed the old man was having a tough time. He was first thrown out from his position as Supreme Mugwump at the ICW, and then from his position as Chief Warlock of Wizengamot. Normally, one would wonder if the international wizarding community were a bunch of morons to throw off a leader simply because he was saying something they did not want to hear. However, he knew better. There was a reason why people lost their minds, and their logic sense (something wizards did not have in large amounts anyway) when it came to Voldemort. Sirius had explained it to him.

" _ **I don't understand Sirius, why do people lose their minds when it comes to Voldemort?"**_

 _ **Sirius flinched.**_

" _ **Oh come on, fear of a name-", Harry began, but Sirius cut him off. "Enough of that ridiculous proverb, Harry. The British population, your parents, I, Remus, everyone else, we are not fools. We are not programmed from birth to flinch at his name. There is a definite and horrifying reason for that."**_

 _ **Harry narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.**_

" _ **Volde- Voldemort was by far, the worst dark lord in magical history." Harry was about to interrupt but Sirius gave him a stern gaze, making to stop midway. He continued, "Britain has had its fair share of dark lords, but understand this Harry, there was no one more terrible than him. There is a reason people feared him, still fear him, even though it's over fourteen years since he supposedly died."**_

" _ **Why?" Harry asked.**_

" _ **Because that... that monster, he is immortal. Or whatever comes close to immortality."**_

" _ **What do you mean?" Harry narrowed his eyes.**_

 _ **Sirius stood by the window. "There have been a lot of dark lords in history. Voldemort was different. He was invincible, he was completely invincible."**_

" _ **He was scared of Dumbledore." Harry defended, feeling a little odd at defending Dumbledore.**_

" _ **Bull shit. Dumbledore simply never challenged him to an open battle. I do not know why he did so, but that is the fact. He always defended but never challenged Him directly." His eyes stared into Harry. "A hundred Aurors, including me, surrounded Voldemort on all sides and fired our best curses. His shield blocked out most of our attacks, though some passed through and we saw his hands and legs cut off from the rest of his body. We thought we had won."**_

 _ **Sirius paused.**_

" _ **The dark lord simply laughed and in a moment, his limbs grew back."**_

 _ **Harry widened his eyes.**_

" _ **Yes." Sirius replied, his face nostalgic as he remembered the ghastly incident. "We tried everything we could. We even conjured the uncontrollable Fiendfyre to kill him, burn him to shreds. He summoned Fiendfyre of his own and subdued our attack with his. That was the day when the Bones died at his hands."**_

 _ **Harry thought of Susan Bones, his classmate from Hufflepuff.**_

" _ **Do not think the Aurors were idiots, Harry. We, that is, James, Remus, Lily and I, four of us tried to battle the dark lord many times collectively, and every time, we had to create a diversion and escape. He was simply undefeatable. To attack meant unsurmountable defense. To defend invited overwhelming attack. And the worse was, the moment his attention turned to you, you ceased to exist. If you ran, then he would come after your families. Imagine coming home after a hard day, only to find the treacherous dark mark hanging above your house while your family lay butchered to pieces inside."**_

 _ **Sirius paused. "People fear him for a reason. There is a reason why it is better to imagine that he is gone for good than face the fact that the nightmare isn't over."**_

 _ **Harry just stared at him numbly.**_

" _ **Just imagine. It took some weird unexplainable thing between you and your mother to vanquish him, and yet he did not die. That is not natural, Harry. That man is a monster. An immortal monster."**_

 _ **Harry stood silent.**_

" _ **No one ever tried to cast the killing curse at him; I will give you that, because it was illegal for even Aurors to cast Unforgivables. However, everything else was fair game. James, Moody and me fought him on one occasion and even then, we were hard pressed to defeat him. That was when Moody lost his leg. It took us everything we knew just to balance against his attacks, such great was the power. Power which I have felt in only one other person in my life."**_

" _ **Dumbledore?"**_

" _ **No." Sirius stared hard at him. "You."**_

 _ **Instantly, Nagnok's words played themselves in his mind. He had uttered about Harry defeating Voldemort in a battle of wills.**_

" _ **What's a battle of wills, Sirius?" he asked suddenly.**_

" _ **A power struggle. When two powerful spells are locked in a head-on battle and both fighters are supplying it with power, it becomes a full-on power struggle that ends only when one fighter either breaks the connection or loses."**_

" _ **Like the one happened at the graveyard?"**_

" _ **Exactly. Had it been anyone else, Voldemort's spell would have shattered through the spell and hit him. However, it got matched up in a battle of wills against yours, and all you had done was cast an Expelliarmus."**_

 _ **Harry nodded numbly.**_

" _ **There is a strength in you Harry, more than what you know of. When you have honed all of it, you will have a power more than you can ever imagine."**_

 _Even if I stay out of the fight, Voldemort will come for my family and me. Sirius says he is a monster. An immortal monster. I wonder what I have to become if I want to defeat him._

* * *

The morning had begun with the entire bustle that could be expected. Granger was busy trying to reprimand the twins about posting and marketing their joke products, while Weasley was bemoaning about how Monday morning had too many classes. Angelina had been made Quidditch Captain, and she informed everyone about how she was keeping new tryout sessions, reminding Harry that he was seeker once again. There were a few jokes and sniggers about the fate of the Umbridge woman the previous night, though no one had yet found out anything about the possible perpetrator.

He was walking to the Great hall for breakfast, ignoring the anxious whispers that seemed to quieten down whenever he was near. He ignored the Ravenclaws that seemed to walk in tighter circles whenever he was near. While he understood that people had a tendency to take the words of the Daily Prophet at face value, this was frankly going beyond acceptable. He turned round the corner and walked straight into the Great Hall.

That was where he met Cho.

"Hey Harry."

Harry felt a flutter in his stomach. He had spent the last two years having a slight crush on the girl, and the fact that she was Cedric's girlfriend did not help matters either. Cedric, the boy who had died and now Harry was being called out as the reason for his death. He did not know what Cho thought about him now.

"Hey."

Cho smiled.

"So... you had a good summer?" he asked tentatively.

Moron. He told himself. That was the last thing he should have been asking. Cedric had died for Merlin's sake. Wondering if he had gotten the habit of putting his foot into his mouth from Ron, he tried to look apologetic but Cho waved him away.

"Oh, it was all right, you know." She replied, though her smile seemed a little forced.

"Is that a Tornados badge?" Ron's voice resounded as he stepped up beside him undeclared and demanded suddenly, pointing at the front of Cho's robes, to which a sky-blue badge emblazoned with a double gold T was pinned. "You don't support them, do you?"

"Yeah, I do," said Cho.

"Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?" said Ron, in what Harry considered an unnecessarily accusatory tone of voice.

 _What is he doing here anyway?_

"I've supported them since I was six," said Cho coolly. "Anyway," she turned to Harry. "See you, Harry."

Harry could not decide whether to kick Weasley for his lack of tact or simply put it to his bad luck. He spun around, realizing just then that he had had a growth spurt in the summer and was now quite tall. Not as much as Ron was, though in his defense, Ron was more dangly than tall.

"What is your problem, Ron?" he hissed with irritation.

Ron looked aback with surprise. "I was just trying to ask her about the Tornadoes, she isn't a real fan and is just-" he went on speaking only to realize that his voice was not coming out.

"Listen to me, Ronald," Harry used his full name in hope that it would get the point across. "Leave me alone. I do not want anything to do with you or Hermione. I have my studies and my education to attend to, and so it would be better if you simply stayed out of my way." Saying that, he sun back and walked off.

Ron continued to struggle against the charm until Hermione came by and dispersed it. "Something wrong?"

"Harry's gone crazy. He silenced me and told me to leave him alone. You saw how he stayed away from us last night at dinner. I think Volde-" he instantly stopped, faced by Hermione's glare, "—you-know-what is affecting him."

Hermione looked at him speculatively.

* * *

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my... displeasure."

His gaze lingered this time upon Neville, who gulped. "After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye."

His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry stared back, happy in the knowledge that he would not have to face Snape from the next year.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," said Snape softly, "so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students."

Thus had begun a class on procuring the Draught of peace, which Snape described as something that can put a drinker into irreversible sleep if one got heavy-handed with it. A grim pleasure came to Harry's mind as he wondered how good it would be to make Snape drink a 'heavy-handed' potion, but he discarded it. Knowing Snape, he would rather make Harry drink it himself.

As Snape got close to his potion, another prank idea germinated in his mind. He must have had too much exposure to Sirius's presence, he presumed. Remembering the charm he had used on Sirius during the duels, he readied it along.

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"

The Slytherins at the front of the class all looked up eagerly; they loved hearing Snape taunt Harry.

"The Draught of Peace," said Harry tensely, or at least it acted it well.

"Tell me, Potter," said Snape softly, "can you read?"

Draco Malfoy laughed.

"Yes, I can."

"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter."

Harry read it from the blackboard, though Snape's handwriting was far from legible. He was still wearing glasses, as Sirius had told him to. Nothing like a good deception.

"Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, and then add two drops of syrup of hellebore."

Snape sneered. "Did you do that?"

"Yes, professor." This time, slightly confident.

"Then why is your potion having the shade of dull green?

Harry gave him a confused look. "I do not understand, Professor."

Snape's sneer reached greater heights. "It seems that your fame has affected your vision. The draught should be light purple by now, not the dull green shade it is exhibiting at this moment."

Harry looked even more confused.

Snape's sneer almost seemed to tear his lips.

"Uh, Professor," one of the Slytherin girls pointed out. "It is light purple."

Snape spun around. "Has Potter's defects affected you too?" He snarled. "This potion is perfectly dull green as -" he stared at the potion. It was light purple, just as Snape wanted the perfect draught to be.

"Professor?" The Slytherin girl repeated.

"Potter!" Snape barked, "Fifty points from Gryffindor."

"Why Professor?" Harry gave him his perfectly schooled features.

Snape snarled and yelled, "Class dismissed."


	12. Chapter 12: The grass is always greener

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _"I can tell you all about them, but if we do not leave now, the school will likely miss seeing a smelly toad."_

 _Harry scrunched his face, trying to decipher what the girl might have meant. "All right." He saw the other students arriving, and not wanting to sit with his friends, he went to the first carriage and sat into it, and Luna climbed back soon after. In matter of minutes, the carriage was full and it set off- horseless as it was, trotting on its own towards the school gates._

 _He never noticed the faint shimmer of air standing a few steps behind where he was talking with Luna._

* * *

Daphne watched with apprehension as Potter and the Lovegood girl sat in the carriage as it drove away, all the way to the Hogwarts gates. Checking to make sure that no one was there, she allowed the disillusionment charm to fade as her lithe figure materialized into view. Potter was indeed becoming more of a puzzle to her. Daphne cursed under her breath. All these years at Hogwarts and she had Harry Potter completely figured out, not that there was anything to figure about the boy in the first place. Grown up with muggles, mixing with blood traitors and muggleborns, Dumbledore's favorite and his official stooge in school and friends with the know-it-all. Throw in some dangerous scenarios and keep the official facts under secret tabs, and of course, let the Hogwarts rumor mill fan out more rumors. Terrible at potions, hated by Snap, average in most subjects but quite talented at Defense. That was Harry Potter.

She cursed again. It seemed like the gods of irony hated her. The moment her dad had told her to get close and collect information about Potter, it seemed like the boy's behavior, personality and magical prowess had made a one-eighty degrees turn. Gone was the boy scrambling over a normal spell in Mcgonagall's class. Here was a person who had just demonstrated a corporeal Patronus of all things.

 _Wandless. Corporeal. Patronus._

 _Fuck._

The boy knew that someone was hiding under a disillusionment charm. Given the times, she would have bet that he would have openly attacked her without caring for the results, but he did not care at all. There was someone eavesdropping on his best friends and Harry Potter seemed to care nothing about it.

It made no sense.

Come to think of it, he had raised a privacy ward when he wanted to engage in a conversation with the Longbottom boy. She could bet that he had not performed the proper wand movements. Besides, learning to create a privacy ward was advanced knowledge and not something one would learn in their fourth year. Her father had made sure Daphne knew it because of political reasons and security. However, that was not the important thing. He had done the warding without any movements and incantations.

 _Silent intent-based magic._

Daphne somehow stopped herself from gaping in surprise. One thing was certain, Potter was powerful, very powerful, and for some reason, he was keeping it all to himself. The fact that he could cast a Patronus wandlessly spoke volumes. Her father could manage a Patronus but it left him drained. She could not even get anything more than just the silvery mist. For the first time, Daphne Greengrass became overwhelmed by a new emotion.

She felt _weak._

She was a bright student In fact; she was one of the three students who rivalled each other for the top position. Herself, Padma Patil from Ravenclaw and Granger from Gryffindor. Granger usually scored the maximum in the theory papers while Daphne scored more in the practical exams. Padma Patil had the best of both worlds but that was another story all together.

She did not know what to think. The fact that there was a student, who was capable of wandless magic, was strutting through the grounds, pretending to be an average student, made her feel uncomfortable. Had she really been that short-sighted? Had she let her be carried away by what Malfoy and Snape had said about him?

Daphne wasn't sure what to think. Harry Potter was his own person, and he was bringing a third side to the war. Daphne did not know if she should feel scared or exhilarated. One thing however, was certain. She needed to get close to Harry Potter. The future of her family might just lie in her efforts.

* * *

She had seen him performing that illusion in the Potions class. It did not seem believable in the first place. Illusions were a very obscure branch of magic that went out of use because of the power requirements. She had seen him slightly raise his _hand_ , which glowed for the moment, and then turn back normal. She had seen Snape walking towards Potter and seen the mock tension on the boy's face. How Potter went from being a clumsy Gryffindor to a sharp Slytherin, Daphne could never fathom. It was almost like watching...

 _An entirely different person._

Her mind went back to something she had heard from the conversations between Weasel and Granger.

 _ **"Harry has changed," Granger was saying, "he has spent the entire summer studying dark magic. His behavior has changed, and even Dumbledore has noticed it."**_

Dark Magic? She had had quite a few surprises from Potter but none of them involved any kind of dark magic. Then again, this was all from Granger's perspective. The know-it-all would perhaps pronounce anything as _dark magic_ that she could not find in her textbooks. Daphne scoffed. Potter had performed wandless spells, demonstrated an illusion without straining; and was versatile in the arts of silent and intent-based magic. Quite a letter her father would get to read.

As soon as the class was over, Daphne scurried off to the owlery to find her pet Pegasus waiting for her. Pegasus was an eagle owl and was extremely sharp, just like her. She tied the letter to his limb and set him off to fly.

 _Let's see what Dad makes out of this._

She knew that Cyrus Greengrass was an extremely levelheaded man. One does not rule the neutral faction, and maintain peace with the other factions while maintaining good influx of business without level-headedness and intellect. She had always aspired to become like her father but it seemed like she had made an initial mistake in calculating the scheme of things. She could not afford to make such a mistake ever again.

* * *

She was about to return towards the Slytherin dungeons when she saw Potter walk towards the seventh-floor corridor. Disillusioning and silencing herself, she followed him. Potter seemed to walk ahead obliviously all the way, as he crossed the corridor and walked up the stairs. His movement was so unpredictable that Daphne had to wonder if he was moving randomly in order to avoid detection. He would move through one corridor, then suddenly step through another door, and then take a sharp bend and... Daphne had forsaken walking and begun to run behind him.

She took a sharp turn just as he took a sharp turn in the seventh floor corridor and then-

Harry Potter was gone.

 _Damn._

It was lucky that the silencing charm was in effect; else, the entire compound would have heard her screaming her lungs out in frustration.

* * *

 **The next day...**

The Gryffindors and Slytherin fifth years entered into the DADA classroom. They found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teacher's desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. Daphne was again reminded forcibly of a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad.

The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew yet how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be. "Well, good afternoon!" she said when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled "Good afternoon," in reply.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. " _That_ won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her.

"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

 _How moronic can she be?_

Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once...

 **DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS: A RETURN TO BASIC PRINCIPLES**

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year."

She paused. "You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year."

 _That's it. Another year of education-less DADA class. Why do I even hope anymore?_

 **Course aims:**

 **1\. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.**

 **2\. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.**

 **3\. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.**

Daphne almost shoved her head in frustration. This... _bitch_ wasn't going to teach her anything. Her mind went back to consider the better option between Durmstrang and Beauxbatons when something interesting happened.

Hermione Granger was raising her hand in the air.

"I've got a query about your course aims," Granger replied. Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"And your name is —?"

"Hermione Granger,"

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about _using_ defensive spells."

 _This is going to be interesting._

Daphne glanced at Potter. It was almost as if he was oblivious to whatever was happening in the class. It seemed he was reading his copy of the Slinkhard's book. Both of his hands were on the book, and he seemed to be reading the deplorably boring book meticulously. She turned towards Umbridge.

" _Using_ defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to _use_ a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

She had barely finished that thought when a huge crimson spell shot out of nowhere towards Umbridge. She shrieked in fright as she leapt under the table, as the spell hit her chair, pulverizing it to dust.

"WHO DID IT?" Umbridge screamed out loudly.

"Professor? Is _that_ going to be our reaction when attacked in a secure, stress-free environment?" Daphne's eyes turned towards Harry Potter who was still sitting on his seat, the Slinkhard book still in hands. "Could _you_ show us that motion again?"

Even Daphne was hard pressed to control her amusement as the class dissolved in peals of laughter.

* * *

 **Two weeks later...**

Daphne could swear that Potter was being deliberately infuriating. There was no way that anything could have happened. She had gathered his entire schedule, calculated his free periods and the most probable hallways and corridors he chose to walk in, but still, whenever he drew close to the seventh floor corridor, he would miraculously disappear, almost as if the corridor would swallow him whole.

 _I will catch him this time. I need to know where he disappears and how does it._

She whipped her wand and cast the tempus charm.

 **04:26 P.M.**

Potter was supposedly to come down this corridor any moment. She had observed him enough to understand that Potter followed a fixed schedule, and every week day after class, he would come up the fifth-floor corridor, move through some random classes and bends and appear somewhere close to the seventh-floor and then disappear. That was why she had chosen to hide on the sixth floor, waiting patiently to see how he did the disappearing act on her every single time.

She heard the sound of footsteps. Quickly, she recast her disillusionment charm and silenced her feet. There was no way Potter would vanish away this time.

She saw him walking towards the seventh-floor and walked towards him. Potter was still wearing his damnable grin on his face as he strode ahead, his wand absent from either hand, though given what she knew of him, he did not need a wand.

She quickly followed him as he crossed the stairs and entered the seventh-floor. He walked straight ahead, Daphne walking just three steps behind him, making sure her stealth was perfect. Her heart was beating hard and she reinforced her mental discipline to control her excitation. Potter crossed the few yards and then turned to take a sharp turn on the left. Daphne followed him instantly.

 _This is the place where he vanishes every time._

She turned left just as he did, and-

Potter had vanished.

 _FUCK!_

"As I believe I have previously mentioned, -" Daphne felt a shiver of fear run down her spine at the voice, "—that is a _very_ good demonstration of the disillusionment charm."

It was over. She had been caught.

"Turn around and dispel the charm."

Daphne stood still, holding her breath. It had avoided her capture the previous time, perhaps she would be lucky twice.

A wand poked into her spine.

 _Okay, perhaps not._

She willed the charm to vanish away. Her magic obeyed her wishes as her lithe figure materialized into view. Slowly, she turned back.

Defiant, icy-blue eyes met inquisitive, bright green. On closer notice, she could not help but notice the strange way in which Potter's eyes seemed to pulse with controlled energy. She focused on her mental shields as she felt an intrusion into her mind. The intrusion knocked around her shields for a while, paused, and then slowly retreated, before plunging in again like a knife as it penetrated her shields, shattering them as it delved into her mind. With supreme effort, Daphne somehow tore her eyes from him, as the intrusive force seemed to vanish.

"Legilimency, Potter? Don't you know that it is _illegal_ to perform it?" She replied defiantly.

"Legilimency? What is that?" the mock-confused expression on his face almost compelled her to snarl in frustration.

"Nothing." She receded. She knew there was no point. Potter had not used his wand, Only wand-based Legilimency could be proved in open court.

"Right. Let's us ignore this hypothetical attempt in Legili—what-you-said," He smirked, "and talk about more important matters. What is a beautiful Slytherin like you, doing here, all alone, walking behind _me_? One would think you were _up to no good_."

Daphne bit her lip, thinking about her possible answers to escape out of that situation.

"I am waiting, you know." He drew close to her, _very close_. She could feel his breath on her neck. "I am _very_ interested in knowing why someone like yourself would be _stalking_ me ever since the start of this year."

 _Damn. He knew it. He knew it._

"It was quite funny, you know. Making you run circles while keeping up the illusion of ignorance. However, we have digressed. Why are you stalking me, Miss...?"

"Greengrass." She hissed. She felt a pang of disappointment that he did not know her name.

"Greengrass." Potter repeated.

"I will tell you if you tell me how you vanish on me every single time." Daphne returned defiantly.

"I am not the one having a wand pointed at me, Miss Greengrass."

"Yeah, you are right." Daphne spoke a little slowly, or one could say, seductively. "However, it does not take much time to turn the tables." She spoke the last words with frightening intensity as her hand moved to her waist to grab her wand only to-

Find her wand was not there.

"Are you looking for this?"

And there it was. Her faithful birch wand. Twirling around Potter's fingers. "Birch wood. Eleven inches. Unyielding. Norwegian Ridgeback heartstring core."

"Since when did you become an expert at wand lore?"

"This summer."

That shut her up. She knew what he was doing. He was playing with her. She hated it.

"I was...I was _stalking_ you because I wanted to know who you are."

"Right," Potter drawled. "Harry James Potter, at your service. Now you know who I am."

Daphne grit her teeth.

"I meant, I wanted to know if you..." A sneaky idea germinated in her mind. "I wanted to know if you were powerful enough to stand against the dark lord."

"No, I am not."

Daphne opened her mouth. Then closed it. Her mind was completely blank. This was Harry Potter. This was the boy-who-lived, the Gryffindor, the- Importantly, this was the person who had actually faced the dark lord on multiple occasions if the rumors were to be believed. For him to simply declare that he wasn't strong enough-

"I don't believe you."

Potter looked confused.

"Excuse me?"

Daphne swallowed. "I saw you cast a corporeal Patronus _wandlessly_. I saw you create an illusion on multiple occasions. I know you are powerful."

"If you know, and are as confident as you seem to be in that knowledge, why are you following me?" The last words were almost hissed out, with Potter bordering on Parseltongue.

 _Fair point._

"I wanted to know why you hide your prowess if you are this powerful, but you disappeared on me, every single time." Her words seemed to express her frustration. "I need your help."

"My... help?"

"Yes." Daphne grit her teeth. The idea was fairly good. She hoped Potter would fall for it.

"Explain."

"I need your help in DADA, and I am ready to negotiate."

Potter seemed to think it out. "And why should I help you out?"

"What do you need in return?" She returned.

Potter eyed her up and down, and for a moment, Daphne feared the worst. Maybe Potter was like every other boy, only interested in feminine assets, and taking advantage of them. Then again, they were boys, and it was to be expected.

"Nothing."

Pause.

Daphne blinked.

"Excuse me?" She almost felt insulted. Wasnt she beautiful enough?

"There is nothing you can provide me, which I cannot get on my own. Hence, I am not interested in your deal."

 _Fuck._

She made her mind. "Potter, I need help in DADA. It is important for me. The Ministry will not allow students to learn anything, and you know it." She folded her hands such that it slightly emphasized the breasts. "I am _willing_ to negotiate."

Potter smirked. "Why couldn't you get help from anyone else?"

"Who better than the fifth-year who defeated the Triwizard Champions in the tournament, especially one who can do _wandless_ magic?"

Potter seemed to be validating her argument. He did not say anything, nor did she. Patience was after all, the name of the game. Finally, he seemed to reach a decision.

"Let's be frank, Greengrass. Why should I teach you? For all I know, you could be a junior death eater. I am not really enthusiastic in imparting my secrets to the enemy."

Fair point. Daphne considered. "My father is the head of the neutrals. Even in the last war, he stayed neutral. Will it work if I swear a vow that I will never join the dark lord?"

Potter considered. "I need to think about it. Give me a day. Meet me tomorrow. I will tell you my final decision."

Daphne let out an elated sigh. "How will I find you?"

"Figure that yourself. You seem to be very... accomplished at that."

Daphne ignored the taunt.

"What?" Potter pressed.

"My wand, Potter."

"Huh?"

"My... wand."

"Oh." He handed her the wand, making sure that the tip was still towards her. Daphne slowly took the wand and sent it to the holster in her waist. For precautionary reasons, she cast an anti-summoning charm on it.

"I will see you tomorrow Potter."

Potter shrugged. Daphne turned to look at the corridor behind her and then-

Potter had disappeared again.

 _Damn._


	13. Chapter 13 : Shifts

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _Daphne let out an elated sigh. "How will I find you?"_

 _"Figure that yourself. You seem to be very... accomplished at that."_

 _Daphne ignored the taunt._

 _"What?" Potter pressed._

 _"My wand, Potter."_

 _"Huh?"_

 _"My... wand."_

 _"Oh." He handed her the wand, making sure that the tip was still towards her. Daphne slowly took the wand and sent it to the holster in her waist. For precautionary reasons, she cast an anti-summoning charm on it._

 _"I will see you tomorrow Potter."_

 _Potter shrugged. Daphne turned to look at the corridor behind her and then-_

 _Potter had disappeared again._

 _Damn._

* * *

"What do you think I should do, Sirius?"

Sirius Black considered the question. The Greengrass family, while not an open supporter of the dark lord, was one of those particular families that believed in the power of leverage. They put their resources on either side, making sure that they were not traumatized or harmed by either side. In the previous war, they had supplied donations to both the dark lord's forces as well as on the Light side. Completely neutral- that was exactly what they are.

"I can tell you what I think of it. The decision however, rests on your shoulders. You are the Lord Potter and Black, and this is your first test at choosing a possible alliance."

Harry nodded, staring into the mirror.

"I knew her father while in school. A sharp man with quick intellect, that one. He was a Ravenclaw and a year senior to me. If I understand it well, he is going to bid a deal with Malfoy too."

Harry scrunched his face in confusion.

"Consider this. The man has stayed neutral all his life. Now, he sees Voldemort on the rise again but for the sake of his neutrality, he is now deciding his moves. It is completely natural that he will try to test you out before trying to decide where he should invest on."

"So this help for DADA is-"

"A plausible excuse, but even then, it is not a lie. If you are a good DADA teacher for his daughter, it gives him surety that you can hold your ground in the war. Besides, as you told me, the Ministry hag isn't going to teach anyone anything. A free, quality DADA education plus a chance to feel out Harry Potter- where are the negatives?"

Nothing.

"So what you are saying is that a treaty of mutual aid and support is out of the question, since Greengrass is inherently neutral."

"Yes, and they view you as someone from the Light faction because the Potters have always stayed in the Light faction since several decades, just like the Black family has been predominantly dark since the birth of the Wizengamot."

"And Dumbledore leads the Light while Lucius Malfoy leads the dark?"

"Not quite." Sirius explained sagely. "The Dark faction is divided into several parts. Lucius is simply the most popular and the most predominantly active in the Wizengamot session. There are two other factions- one lead by Tiberius Nott and the other led by Atticus Selwyn."

"Death eaters?"

"Not quite. Tiberius Nott was a supporter. Quite high on Voldemort's list of benefactors but a supporter nevertheless. Mostly neutral but follower of the pureblood doctrine."

"And Selwyn?"

"The Selwyns have always believed in one thing. Support the winner and take advantage. As long as the dark lord held the ground, the Selwyns supported him. They are a family notorious for their underhanded dealings and hold the biggest underworld network of abduction, extortion and sale of dark artifacts. In a way, they are as dangerous as Voldemort, except that they always attack from the shadows."

"I thought everyone rallied under Voldemort's banner." Harry quipped.

Sirius shook his head. "Not so simple, godson. Everyone has agendas- some direct, and some hidden. If you were to observe it properly, most families prefer peace instead of war between our own. After all, we are all magical. Yet, why do you think the dark families supported the Dark Lord?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Because he was supporting the Pureblood cause?"

"Top marks." Sirius exclaimed. "The dark lord was championing their rights, and winning. It is natural for people to flock towards a winner. Like after Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, everyone, Light, neutral or Dark—all flocked to him like sheep, because he was the winner. People get attracted to winners; simply because they are the ones who make things happen."

"For someone who has spent the last decade in Azkaban, you are fairly well informed." Harry returned.

Sirius smirked. "I was an Auror, plus the blood heir of Black. Grandfather made me study files of other families while growing up."

Harry felt nauseous at that.

"Perks of being Pureblood." Sirius grinned. "So tell me godson, snagged any birds yet?"

* * *

Daphne was walking with her friend Tracey Davis on the second-floor, coming from their latest Transfiguration class with the Gryffindors. Unlike Daphne, Tracey had a rather bubble personality, though the other girl knew it well that her bubble personality was simply an attempt at misdirection. The brunette was vicious, and highly protective of Daphne. There was after all, a _reason_ why the Lord Greengrass treated a half-blood like Davis like a daughter.

"Did you notice how the know-it-all was behaving? I swear sometimes I feel like punching her face with my hook."

Daphne smirked. Trust Tracey to resort to brawnish activities over trifles. If not for her cunning mindset, she would have made a quintessential Gryffindor; such was her outward appearance and behavior.

"Say something, Daph."

"What do you expect me to say?"

Tracey grunted in indignation. "I swear I am going to curse her to oblivion and back someday. Tear her abdomen, expelling her intestines out and make her it eat all."

Daphne cringed. Tracey was too imaginative in such cases, and her imaginations tended to be full of gore, something not even close to her range of comforts. "Please Tracey; keep your horrible, gruesome imagination to yourself." She returned, her face seeming as if she had just tasted a bad egg.

Tracey huffed and changed the topic. "Fine. Tell me about your latest victim then."

Daphne drew her eyebrows high enough for them to get lost amidst her hair. "My victim?"

"Potter." Tracey clarified.

"Potter is not my victim." She drawled. _Far from it._

"What does your father say about this?"

"He is... interested in knowing what Potter presents as his requirements. Knowing what he does, he wants to; at least, hear him out before deciding on the next course of action."

Tracey nodded thoughtfully. "I am surprised by the changes in him. If I didn't know any better, I would say he is not Potter at all, given what you told me about him."

 _Right. Only that I myself am not sure if he is indeed Harry Potter in the first place._

"When are you meeting him?"

"Evening."

"Okay. I will make sure the coast is clear then."

Daphne nodded.

* * *

Daphne walked slowly across the sixth-floor corridor, only that this time, she was not disillusioned. She hoped that Potter would come by this way just as he did every time. Impatient of strolling mindlessly, she cast a tempus charm.

 **04:35 P.M.**

 _He should be coming anytime now._

Her wand held tightly in her palm, she walked slowly, her mind reliving the conversation with Potter. It was pathetic, the ease with which he had completely overpowered her and had her at his mercy. If it had been anyone else, Daphne was sure that by now, her father would be reading some bad news... The ease at which Potter seemed to overpower her was frightening and...

Attractive.

Daphne loved power. She wasn't close-minded like the likes of Malfoy, who believed that blood mattered more than everything else did. She did not agree with the likes of Dumbledore either, who openly preached against the use of any kind of dark magic. For her, power was everything. Blood meant nothing, fame meant nothing, and wealth meant nothing when you had that kind of power. Her father, Lord Cyrus Greengrass was a businessperson at heart, and had brought her up according to his ideals. True Power was what actually mattered. Nobody cared what the dark lord's true parentage was. Nobody cared that Albus Dumbledore was a half-blood. All that mattered was that both of them held great power at their fingertips.

Just like Potter.

She had made a bit of research into Potter's family. The Potters were descendants of one of the original Ancient Houses that ruled Magical Britain, before the birth of the Wizengamot. Today, only two other families of old retained their powers- The House of Black and the House of Selwyn. Despite how much Malfoy might strut around, it was clear as daylight that the House of Malfoy was a new House, established in Magical Britain some eighty-five years ago. In terms of societal hierarchy, they were still _novou._

Since her mother Victoria worked in the Department of familial records at the Ministry, Daphne had come across some very interesting information. Apparently, Potter had become the Lord Potter and Lord Black this past summer, and though he had yet to take up his Lordship and seat at the Wizengamot, it did not negate the fact that the boy was now the Lord of two Ancient, and unbelievably powerful and wealthy families. In fact, Potter could be considered the wealthiest Lord in Magical Britain at the moment.

 _And all he did these past years was dress up in rags._

Daphne scoffed. Potter was an enigma. She had long left trying to match the two different Harry Potters and tried to focus her attention to the one present at the moment. Whether the change was because of some dark magic, ritual or merlin-knows-what changes, the new Harry Potter was going to create waves in town and seemed to be certain and confident of his knowledge of the scheme of things. She wondered what Potter would ask for in return of teaching her. His powers were... unique. She pondered over the information she had received from her father.

 _ **The Potters have had Warmages in their family and it is believed that their family magic revolves around battle-transfiguration. The Blacks on the other hand, were notorious for the use of illusions in their battles. If Potter is demonstrating illusions in public, it simply indicates that the boy has his hands on the Black family magic.**_

She couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable while dealing with Potter. She had been in the business of dealing with people since her second year itself, then what was it that was making her feel that she had bitten more than she could chew?

 _I wonder what other powers Potter has been hiding..._

"Not disillusioned, this time?" A disembodied voice carried over her shoulder. Daphne spun to her right, but there was no one. Disappointed and exhilarated at the same time, she turned back front and found herself staring into the bright green eyes of Harry Potter.

"I never took you for the theatrical kind, Potter." She scoffed with exasperation.

"Theatricality and deception are powerful tools. I would have thought that a Slytherin would have known that."

 **Theatricality and Deception are powerful tools**. It was one of the many messages engraved in the walls inside the Slytherin dungeons. How on earth did Potter know it? Daphne wondered.

"Have you decided on our little arrangement?" Daphne pressed, not wanting to give him any chance to make her flustered.

"Why yes, I did." Potter gave her a bright smile, which Daphne automatically chose to mean fake. "I have decided what I need in return of... helping you in DADA. I need one simple favor, one simple oath and one simple information."

 _That is strange._

"Okay," Daphne pressed her lips. "Let's hear it then."

Harry smiled. "The favor first? I want an audience with Lord Greengrass and one person shall be accompanying me. I want you to ensure that the meeting shall be made under the oath of silence."

"Easily done. Next?"

"The oath. I want you to give me an oath of _détente_ on behalf of Lord Greengrass. In case you cannot, your father is welcome to take the oath."

Interesting. Daphne surmised. "And what exactly does this détente cover?"

"Simple. We agree not to raise wands against each other."

Daphne raised her eyebrows. This was new.

"Fine, but I will need to conform it with my father before taking the oath. I hope you understand?"

"Of course."

Daphne allowed a ghost of a smile float on her lips. "The third?"

"The information. I want you to _truthfully_ tell me if your father is playing both sides to stay neutral for this war, or not."

Daphne widened her eyebrows, and instantly cursed her reaction. Potter smirked. The sudden reaction from her was more than enough to answer his suspicions, she garnered.

 _Very well played, Potter._

"I hope you understand that I won't be able to conform it unless I speak to my father."

"Of course, Miss Greengrass. Take your time. After all, I am not the one with the need for the DADA lessons."

Daphne pursed her lips. "Of course." She replied stiffly. "Will that be all?"

Potter shrugged as he turned back and continued walking towards the seventh floor. Suddenly, he stopped, and replied, "Yes, unless of course you want to follow me while disillusioned. As I might have mentioned it previously, it was great fun playing chase with you."

Daphne grit her teeth.

* * *

It was time for the Defense against the Dark arts class once again. As usual, Umbridge sat upon her chair, busy doing her private stuff while the rest of the class had to sit quietly and mindlessly drone on over what Slinkhard had to say over the subject. Hermione looked like she was about to burst a nerve, while Ron looked bored as ever. In fact, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas were engaged in some kind of game on paper, unseen by Umbridge.

"Professor?"

Umbridge looked up. To her surprise, it was Theodore Nott. A Slytherin. Knowing that his father was a Lord in the Wizengamot and had considerable political clout, she decided to tread carefully around the boy. "Yes, Mr. Nott?"

"I was wondering if the OWL exams were going to be just as theoretical and according to the Ministry-approved syllabus, as the texts are."

Umbridge frowned. The Wizarding Examinations Authority was an autonomous department of the Ministry and made their own set of question papers for the OWLS and NEWTS. It did not matter to them what the schools taught. They only cared if a student was able to answer, or not.

She cleared her throat. "The Ministry of magic believes that-"

"Excuse me professor, I have a question," asked an irate-looking Hermione Granger.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Umbridge asked, thinning her lips to the point of non-existence.

"Are you here as the spokesperson of the Ministry or do you actually have any qualifications to handle the job of the DADA professor?" Hermione questioned- much to the surprise of the others. While the muggleborn was notorious for her snappish behavior at pretty much every wizarding tradition, she was a well-known teacher's pet. For her to question a professor's qualifications, it was almost unfathomable.

"MISS GRANGER! FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!" screamed Dolores, standing up from her easy chair, wand in hand. She was fuming with anger, glaring daggers at the muggleborn girl. Hermione looked back defiantly; completely confident in her decision to question the hag she had to endure.

"She is RIGHT," reasoned Ron Weasley, now standing up from his seat. Daphne closed her book and looked at the happenings. Things were about to turn very interesting. She cast a quick glance at Potter who still seemed to be completely subjugated by Umbridge's power and was meticulously reading the Slinkhard book. It was so _fake_ that even Daphne rolled her eyes.

"ANOTHER THIRTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR AND DETENTION FOR BOTH OF YOU TOMORROW EVENING!" Dolores screamed in fury, before she raised her wand. "I am here because the Ministry-"

FAAAAART!

A huge sound of someone farting originated from her posterior, making Umbridge flush in embarrassment while the rest of the class dissolved in laughter. Even Daphne was chuckling. Potter was, as usual, busy with his Slinkhard book though she could see the ghost of a smile on his face.

"WHO EVER DID THIS WILL SUFFER! I WILL NOT ENDURE THIS ANY LONG-CROOOOAK!" Dolores shut her mouth, much to everyone's amusement. Ron and Dean were now rolling on the floor, laughing their heart out, holding their stomachs with their hands. Hermione was openly chuckling and even Daphne could not help but be amused. Tracy was already beating her fist on the desk as she giggled.

Dolores tried to open up her mouth a little and speak again. "I will...CROAAK! What is CROAA... penning?"

It was complete madness. Even Daphne was laughing now.

Dolores decided to save whatever remained of her dignity and stomped out of the room.

* * *

"Minister, it is going beyond acceptable limits now." Dolores fumed. Gone was her sickly sweet voice. She was downright glaring at the Minister as if it were entirely his fault. Not that anyone could blame her. She had had to spend full four hours at the hospital wing, with that blasted school matron forcing vile liquids down her throat. The entire experience was completely horrible, considering how one of the potions she had to ingest tasted like vomit. She was sure that the blasted nurse made the potions taste like that intentionally.

Fudge looked at her sympathetically. "I completely understand, Dolores. I am afraid it is all Dumbledore's plan to out you from there. I wouldn't be surprised if it was him behind these... _pranks_." The last word was spoken as if it were the vilest thing on earth. "You have to bear and control the-"

"But Minister this is _beyond_ my patience." She screamed. "I am the _senior undersecretary_ and I do not-"

"Dolores!" Fudge snapped. Dolores shut up instantly, fearing that she had touched a raw nerve to make the Minister snap like that. "Need I remind you that you were the one to put your name for the DADA position? Besides, such a thing would not have happened if you had taught them a little. The conversation with Young Nott is giving off waves of rebellion. If the Pureblood heirs begin to rebel against us, the Ministry will have nowhere to stand upon. You have to teach them something, or else get yourself off from the job. I will think of something else. As it is, you have been unable to get Potter reveal anything about his or Dumbledore's secret plans."

Dolores bit her tongue. It was true that she was the one who had the bright idea to put her name for the DADA post. She had thought that her position as senior undersecretary would be more than enough to inhibit the voices of liars in the school. Apparently, it wasn't so. In fact, it was only the Granger girl and the Weasley boy who were reacting to her actions. Potter was... Damn... she could not understand him. She had all but called him a liar indirectly and he was yet to provide any kind of response. It was almost like her actions and taunts fell on deaf ears.

 _I guess I will have to do with Granger and Weasley then._

Dolores looked back at the now-fuming Minister. "I am so sorry Minister for angering you at this hour. I will make sure everything goes according to our plan." Her mock-sweet voice was back.

"See that you do." Cornelius huffed as he shut down the Floo connection, leaving Dolores alone in her room to conspire a plan to deal with the devils.

 _Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley._

* * *

 **The next day...**

The entire student body of Hogwarts was gathered near the corridor leading to the great Hall as they looked with anticipation as Argus Filch pinned what seemed to be a very large-looking notice on the wall. It was an issue of proclamation by the defense instructor, Dolores Umbridge. To everyone's surprise, it read...

 **By order of**

 **THE DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS PROFESSOR**

 **AND SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY TO THE MINISTER**

 **IN ORDER TO MAINTAIN THE PROPER LEVEL OF KNOWLEDGE AND PRACTICE IN THE ARTS OF MAGICAL DEFENSE AND FOR PROMOTING EXCELLENCE IN THE OWLS AND NEWTS...**

 **STUDENTS ARE HENCEFORTH REQUIRED TO SIGN UP FOR THE NEWLY ESTABLISHED STUDY GROUP SPEARHEADED BY MADAM DOLORES UMBRIDGE. THE NEWLY COINED GROUP IS TO BE KNOWN AS THE DEFENSE ASSOCIATION (DA).**

 **THE ATTENDANCE IS MANDATORY.**

The general reaction of the entire student population was surprisingly common. It all started and finished in a single phrase and three words.

 _What the Fuck?_


	14. Chapter 14 : Pranks and Demonstrations

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _ **By order of**_

 _ **THE DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS PROFESSOR**_

 _ **AND SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY TO THE MINISTER**_

 _ **IN ORDER TO MAINTAIN THE PROPER LEVEL OF KNOWLEDGE AND PRACTICE IN THE ARTS OF MAGICAL DEFENSE AND FOR PROMOTING EXCELLENCE IN THE OWLS AND NEWTS...**_

 _ **STUDENTS ARE HENCEFORTH REQUIRED TO SIGN UP FOR THE NEWLY ESTABLISHED STUDY GROUP SPEARHEADED BY MADAM DOLORES UMBRIDGE. THE NEWLY COINED GROUP IS TO BE KNOWN AS THE DEFENSE ASSOCIATION (DA).**_

 _ **THE ATTENTDANCE IS MANDATORY.**_

 _The general reaction of the entire student population was surprisingly common. It all started and finished in a single phrase and three words._

 _What the Fuck?_

* * *

"THIS IS BEYOND LIMITS!" screamed the senior undersecretary to Minister of Magic and the DADA professor of Hogwarts. She cast a withering glare at Argus Filch who was staring back at her defiantly. "Let me repeat that for the last time, Mister Filch. I did _not_ meet you and inform you to set up the notice in front of the Great Hall."

Filch looked at her as if she had just stated that she had grown an extra head. "Madam Umbridge," Filch croaked, "You came to my office two nights ago yourself and told me particularly to make sure that this was what you wanted me to do." He mumbled something obscure but she could not make any heads or tails of it. Dolores frowned. There was absolutely no way she had done what the squib was suggesting. She remembered her conversations with the Minister and then she had...

Hang on... What _exactly_ had she done after that?

Pause.

Still nothing.

Dolores widened her eyes.

"Mister Filch, what exactly did I say to you? The exact wordings, if you could..."

Filch looked at her oddly and croaked. "You told me to frame a notice regarding a new official study group for helping students prepare for their OWLS and NEWTS. Also, that the attendance to this group would be mandatory."

Dolores grit her teeth. This was another prank played on her. The unfortunate thing was, she had been away to the Ministry for a day to collect some valuables, and had not been in the castle to put an end to the madness. It had been one complete day, and she was sure that many students had even informed their families about the sudden change in the Ministry-approved curriculum. Cancelling the group now would lead to further resentment. The face of the younger Mister Nott came to mind. An open show of resentment from the pureblood faction would mean the end of her career. The sharp words of the Minister came to mind.

 _ **You have to teach them something, or else get yourself off from the job.**_

"I am not going to be defeated by some school children and their pranks. If Dumbledore believes that these juvenile pranks are going to make me go away from Hogwarts and let him rule the castle, he is severely mistaken." Dolores muttered to herself, her mind beginning to hatch a plan to get something productive out of the change of situation.

"Mister Filch", she regarded the caretaker, "the next time I come to your office and ask for something, please make sure to ask it to me the next day before doing it or not. I believe the person who had come in disguised as me was some kind of imposter. The next time I ask you for something, make sure to come to my office and confirm that it is me or not."

"As you wish, Madam." Argus Filch jerked his head, as he turned and began walking away, his dishrag of a cat following his heels.

* * *

 **That evening, somewhere on the sixth floor corridor.**

"Ah, Greengrass, I thought you had decided to call off your plan."

Daphne felt her eyes twitch. She did not know what it was about Potter, but the blasted boy could get on her nerves very effectively. Surprisingly even, she felt her emotional control slip out of her when dealing with Potter. It was a strange thing, but she resolved to figure out why.

"My father took his time to decide on your demands. Surely a lord of your stature will understand."

Harry's eyes flashed. "Whatever do you mean?"

Daphne stared at him for a moment. It seemed like she had hit a raw nerve. Perhaps Potter did not want to reveal the news of his lordship at the moment. She wondered why.

"That you hold the lordships of the Potter _and_ the Black families? Surely it is not a surprise for you, is it?"

"I did not know that the news about my lordships were public." He looked at her scathingly.

"No, they are not. My mother works in the Department of familial records. She informed me."

"Ah." Harry paused, "So what has Lord Greengrass decided about our _arrangement_?"

"He has, but before I reveal it, I need to be sure that you will keep your end of the agreement."

"Fair enough." Harry muttered, raising his wand. Daphne noticed that the wand was lengthier than most and had a strange design. Potter seemed to be a well of surprises and eccentricities.

"By the ancient laws, I, Harry James Potter, lord of House Potter and Black, swear that I will uphold my vows and promises made to the Greengrass family if they agree to my requirements. As I have said, so mote it be."

Daphne pursed her lips. "He has _agreed_ to it, on grounds that his answer be received under an oath of silence from the family of Potter and Black."

 _Interesting. Sirius was right. The man is one sharp player._

"Of course, I did not expect anything else." Harry returned, "Has he mentioned a date for the private meeting?"

Daphne nodded. She cleared her throat. "You had demanded me of three things. The favor- Lord Greengrass is ready for the private meeting whenever you are. He understands that you may have guests with you and has sworn that no one will be harmed or attacked unless in self-defense."

Harry nodded understandably.

"The oath." She paused, "I, Daphne Victoria Greengrass, swear as the heir apparent of the Ancient and Noble family of Greengrass to be in _détente_ with the Houses of Potter and Black. Unless the agreement is broken in the future, under the consent of _both_ parties, the House of Greengrass shall not take up wands against the Houses of Potter and Black. As I say it, so mote it be."

Harry nodded, observing the light-orange aura emitting out of the girl as the oath took effect.

"The third. Your question. The answer is yes. My father intends to come out of the war as neutral, without any harm on the House or the family. At least that is the immediate plan."

Diplomatic answer. Harry mused, but he had no choice but to accept it. "Very well, Miss Greengrass, whenever you are ready, inform me and I will help you for your DADA education. Though I must impress upon you that I am a hard worker at DADA and will expect a certain level of competency from you."

Daphne grit her teeth, refusing to say anything. She nodded primly.

"Very well then, I suppose you have a place in mind for the training?"

 _Why don't we use your own training location?_ Daphne yelled inside her mind. Outward, she smiled and nodded. "I do."

"And is it a place where I would find death-eater wannabes trying to spy upon me?"

Daphne raised her eyebrows. "I thought that we made it clear that we are neutral."

"No, Miss Greengrass, you made it clear that you are playing _both sides_. Being _truly_ neutral and playing _both_ sides has much similarity as a thestral has with a donkey."

 _Damn you, Potter._

"No," Daphne reined on her slipping (otherwise ironclad) control on her emotions. "The place I have in mind doesn't have any death-eater wannabes spying on you. Happy?"

"Very." Harry smiled. "He took out a piece of what seemed to be vellum, and handed it over to the girl. "Keep this with you. Whenever you feel like you have a location ready for use, write down the time and location on this vellum. I will get it. This vellum will be our source of communication."

Daphne stared at the thing in her hands. A fascinating and innovative combination of rune clusters and switching charms, she mused. Ingenious.

"How did you make this?" she could not help but ask- the curiosity vivid in her voice.

"Ah-ah-ah!" Harry wiggled his fingers animatedly. "We only swore about DADA, not charms. My private knowledge and accomplishments are exactly that— _private_."

Daphne glared at him, her face livid with indignation. For Merlin's sake, she had just made an alliance with the blasted boy just minutes ago, and yet his behavior was screaming out that he did not trust her one bit. This was not how she had expected things to go on. While she did not really have the best relations with people at Hogwarts, with exception of her sister and Tracy, she had tried really hard to try being on good terms with Potter. However, it seemed like Potter was completely hell-bent on treating her like a _necessary evil_ at most. Stomping her foot in indignation, she turned and walked away.

* * *

Harry watched her go, and could not help but notice the seductive endowments the girl had. To be honest, Greengrass was one of the most beautiful girls in the castle, and certainly the most in his year. While it was sure that he had entertained an infatuation towards Cho Chang, her recent change of attitude was blaring out some kind of danger signal towards him. For Merlin's sake, the girl had just lost her boyfriend the previous year, and if the rumors were to be believed, Harry himself was associated with Cedric's murder. While it was all hearsay, no matter how aggravating and unbelievable in nature, it was _almost creepy_ how the Chinese girl had rebounded back to him after Cedric's death. It was almost as if she was trying too hard to get his attention now that Cedric was dead.

 _Trying too hard._

The phrase could describe two other people residing in the same castle whose behavior in regards to him could be defined by the exact same phrase. One was Greengrass, and the other was Hermione (Granger, Harry corrected inside his mind). Greengrass was certainly trying to gauge him and his prowess and trying to manipulate him to teach her his skills. Granger was trying too hard to be close to him at all moments, trying to make him talk to her and reveal his thoughts. Surely, Dumbledore must have been forcing them to get closer to him and hunt for information.

Fat chance. Harry snorted inwardly. He cast a powerful Parseltongue ward (the journals he had had the good sense to collect from the Chamber of Secrets had powerful spells in them. The only negative was that Parseltongue was required to fuel those spells and it being a magical language, had to be spoken out for the spell to take effect. However, given the fact that there wasn't another Parselmouth in Magical Britain (except him and Voldemort) made the negatives much less, since no one would be able to understand Parseltongue anyway). The dome of protective magic surrounded him as he took out his Mirror.

"Padfoot."

In three seconds, the mirror vibrated audibly as Sirius was visible on the other side. "Hey Godson, how did it go?"

"Better than expected"

"She bought it?"

"Yes."

"So you are going to teach her, what? Defensive magic?"

"Whatever is in the syllabus... Yes." Harry answered with a nonchalant expression. Sirius looked strangely at him. "I do not remember you studying DADA in advance during your study sessions. At most, I would say you are half-way through fifth-year with the exception of those battle-spells you learnt from the other book."

Harry nodded.

"Then?"

"Well, it's like this. I know it, and you know it. Greengrass doesn't. Not my fault that she decided to act upon it without making sure that her bet is on the correct horse."

Sirius shook his head unbelievably. "I have released a monster." Harry smirked.

"For the record, Godson, why exactly are you being so cold towards the Slytherin princess? I believe she is quite fetching."

Harry beamed.

* * *

 **That very evening...**

The entire student from fifth years and above sat at their respective tables in the Great Hall. The whispers in the crowd were at large considering how Umbridge had been all for theory and was now going to teach them practical application of spells. Half of the students hoped to learn something finally, while the other half were dejected that Umbridge would turn out to be a failure just like Quirrel or Lockhart had been. At least Lupin had been a decent teacher, werewolf or not. It was almost ironic that Umbridge had to show that she had better teaching skills that the animal she despised more than anything else- a werewolf.

Dolores Umbridge entered the Hall through the antechamber, wearing robes of bright pink as usual, followed by none other than Filius Flitwick. It was a known fact that Flitwick was an international dueling champion in his yesteryears, and many hoped that at least Flitwick would be able to teach them something.

"My dear students, after listening to your various queries about the nature of questions and examination patterns in your OWLS and NEWTS, I have decided that your queries hold some amount of justification. However, I have also realized that your DADA education has been intermittent at best and haphazard at worst. That is why, this study group will ensure that your education shall follow a more streamlined and proper process."

Everyone sat still, listening attentively at what the DADA professor had to say.

"As I have mentioned previously, the Ministry of magic intends to develop our time into an era of openness, effectiveness and accountability. Hence, I would gladly call in Professor Filius Flitwick to help and contribute to this study group by sharing his knowledge of dueling with everyone. In addition, we decided that it would be a great idea to have the students demonstrate their own abilities before we begin the study group formally. It would not do to have others have an incorrect idea of a student's _true, or lack of_ , potential."

 _Very Slytherin_. Harry noted. The toad had very subtly insulted him while making a very positive statement. He had to hand it over to her. Perhaps the toad wasn't a complete piece of gobshit.

The next two hours had been devoted to the students being arranged in different groups according to their years, and have them perform some standard set of fourth year spells openly. It was an almost successful study session with the students coming up, performing spells, and returning happily towards the tables. Umbridge didn't have to teach anything at all.

"Ronald Weasley."

Ron strode up proudly towards the center, where a makeshift elevated platform had been conjured by Flitwick. Umbridge looked at him like a hawk, knowing very well that this was one boy that was one of the major disturbing agents in her class.

"Mister Weasley, I wish that you demonstrate the stunning charm for me."

Ron looked at her in surprise. "The stunning charm? We have not learnt that bit yet. It is in the fifth-"

"As expected, all bark with no bite. Please get down Mister Weasley, the next time, please keep your heads down and try not to disturb my class. Thank you."

'But-"

"Thank you..." Umbridge stressed, pursing her lips.

"This is unfair,' Ron began indignantly, "you gave first year spells to the Slytherins and you are giving me this, you slimy toady hag you-"

Umbridge smiled. Her plan had worked perfectly. "Detention, Mister Weasley. Tomorrow evening, my office."

Ron glared at her and walked down the platform, ignoring the looks and murmuring obscure things under his breath. Umbridge looked satisfied. "Next on the list is... Hermione Granger."

Harry watched the entire scene unfold with great interest. Umbridge was making very good, personalized, calculated moves. Weasley had landed himself into detention and the hag had used his anger and lack of self-control against himself. This was turning out to be interesting.

"Hermione Granger."

Hermione walked up to the platform and whipped her wand out in her hand. At least Granger was the sensible one and actually knew the spells, Harry mused. If not for the fact that she had betrayed him, he would have taken great pleasure in the knowledge that the toad would not be able to insinuate ignorance when it came to Hermione Granger and her knowledge of spells. However, that did not mean that he would deprive himself of the pleasure of seeing the toad fluster as Hermione performed spell after spell, as Umbridge demanded it of her, for that was exactly what was happening.

"Now, the stunning spell." Umbridge replied, trying very hard not to show her annoyance as the blasted muggleborn in front of her demonstrated her proficiency in all the spells she had demanded of her. Hermione raised her wand and pointed it towards none other than Umbridge herself as she intoned.

"Stupefy."

The red shaft of light hurled out from her wand and shot towards the hapless professor, hitting her in the chest, sending her backwards as she hit the floor with a thud, unconscious. Instantly, shouts began throughout the crowd varying from shouts of laughter and congratulations to Hermione to complete disarray and insults towards her from the Slytherins for the same. Privately, Hermione herself was shocked. When Umbridge had demanded her to perform the fifth year spell, she had expected that the defense professor would at least have the capability to stop a stunning spell with a shield. It seemed that Umbridge was just as hopeless as Lockhart had turned out to be.

Flitwick shot her a look of approval as the tiny man strode up and enervated the toad, who got up clumsily, trying to keep whatever dignity she had, before raising her eyebrows and yelling, "Fifty points for attacking a teacher, Miss Granger."

Hermione gave her an 'unbelievable' look and retorted, "Oh I am sorry Professor, it was my mistake to believe that the defense professor of all people would have the _minimum_ capability to cast a Protego and stop a _stunning spell cast by a student_. After all, _you_ are sent from the Ministry as the _proper and accountable_ DADA teacher, are you not?"

Umbridge fumed at the shenanigans and the insinuations put forward by this muggleborn scum about her in public. Her face turned a bright red as her fingers tightened around her wand, ready to perform a torture spell on the student, Cornelius Fudge be damned. The Cruciatus was almost at her lips and her arm was almost ready to raise the wand when-

"That was uncalled for, Hermione."

Every eye turned towards the source of the new interruption. Even Umbridge and her eyes widened as she recognized the person who had raised his voice against the muggleborn scum. Harry Potter was looking up, as he stood close to the platform, his eyes staring coldly at Granger.

"Harry, how can you-"

"Enough Hermione." Harry retorted. "Madam Umbridge is our DADA teacher, and one sent by the esteemed Ministry of Magic. It is completely beneath you to speak like that about her."

Everyone looked at Potter, gaping like fishes. Even Daphne could not help herself from being completely flummoxed at Potter's reaction. This was Harry Potter, the boy the Ministry had called delusional and a liar since the end of the Triwizard tournament. The boy whose reputation had been turned to shreds by the Ministry. The boy who had lost his family because of dementors which were believed to be under Ministry rule. Now the same boy was speaking for the Ministry. It was unfathomable.

"Harry, are you out of your-"

"ENOUGH!" Dolores fumed, ready to take advantage of the unexpected help Potter was providing. "As I believed I previously stated, fifty points from Gryffindor for attacking a teacher without reason. In addition, you shall join Mister Weasley in his detention with me tomorrow evening. Is that clear?"

Hermione cast a betrayed look at Harry.

"I asked if that's clear?"

Hermione shook her head. "Yes, madam Umbridge." Umbridge gave her a predatory look that promised distress and agony to the bushy-haired girl, who looked dejected as she turned to walk down the platform.

"In fact, there is something more that I would like to say."

Every eye turned back towards Potter who stood smiling. "Yes, Mister Potter?" Umbridge demanded, keeping up a look of fake happiness for the person who had just saved her skin. She gave him a look of appreciation and gestured him to continue. Potter bobbed his head like an obedient child and reverently glazed... "I know that I haven't had my chance to show my prowess with the fourth year spells yet, so it might be too deviant and unprecedented on my part, but I am sure that Madam Umbridge would be able to easily out-duel anyone in this room, no offence to Professor Flitwick of course. After all, it is her who is the Defense against the dark arts professor."

"None taken, Mister Potter." Flitwick beamed, though one could notice the shadow of a smirk on the half-goblin's lips.

* * *

Dolores Umbridge had been experiencing a myriad of emotions, starting from pleasantly surprised to confusion to outright shock and enragement. That blasted brat had not been on her side, he had simply taken advantage of the opportunity and pulled one over her. It was very Slytherin of him, a part of her could not help but realize. The boy had simply played her like a harp and now she was outwitted.

"I am not sure if that-" she tried but the words stopped in her throat as she regarded the faces of the heirs of the Pureblood faction stare blankly towards her, their faces carrying a disillusioned expression.

 _Damn it, what should I do now?_

* * *

Had Daphne not been confident of her ironclad control over her facial expressions, she would have been surprised to not find herself rolling on the floor, laughing at Umbridge's predicament. Potter- the bastard, the quintessential slytherin had played her like a harp and outwitted her. Salazar Slytherin himself would be proud of a move. If Umbridge accepted to duel, Potter would be within his rights to wipe the room with her. If she did not, she would face problems, as the pureblood faction would be even more disillusioned with her skills and prowess, well more than what they already were.

 _Well played, Potter. Well played._

She turned towards Potter, who had an innocent expression schooled on his face. How was it possible that this boy, this perfect Slytherin had once been known as the Gryffindor golden boy, Daphne could not fathom. Right now, Potter seemed to be the epitome of Slytherin, and the ultimate prankster she had ever set her eyes. For a brief moment, she imagined herself on his arm, but then quickly discarded the notion as the memory of her meeting with Potter resurfaced. Potter had treated her as if she were scum, treating and poking at her with a long wooden pole, figuratively speaking.

 _At least he is good at it. I can appreciate and accept that at least._

* * *

Harry tried his best to keep up his schooled look plastered on his face. He had spent hours with his godfather, trying to perfect that look, all for _this one_ moment. He could not fail now. He looked expectantly at Umbridge, who seemed to be divided between choosing between being killed and being burned alive. Finally, she seemed to have resigned herself to her fate as she nodded her head slowly.

He allowed a smile to wash over his face.

 _I swear I am up to no good._

It was almost funny, how his mind was uttering the same words that was the password for the map. Perhaps this was how the Marauders had actually felt when in school. Briefly, he rejoiced at the feeling of having something in common with his father and godfather.

"Mister Potter," Flitwick began as he took the opportunity. "Please stand on this end," he proclaimed, expanding the platform enough to have a duel over it. "Professor Umbridge, if you may?" he indicated Umbridge to stand at the other end, who haplessly walked towards the other end.

"What are the rules, Professor Umbridge? I wish to know them so that I can be sure not to expect unknown spells from you. I am after all, only a fifth year."

"Uh," Umbridge tried, but her flummoxed mind did not supply her with anything. "Of course, we will stick to fourth year spells and below for your ease." She smiled uncertainly.

"Thank you, Professor." Harry gave her a showy nod.

"Three, two, one... BEGIN!" Flitwick yelled.

Harry raised his wand upward with a flick, levitating Umbridge who shrieked in fright as Harry raised her up further and further ten feet, fifteen feet and upward, without even chanting any incantation at all. And then-

She fell down, yelling for her life, as Harry seemed to be trying to hold the spell up, or at least so he pretended. Umbridge screamed like a banshee as she fell all the way towards the ground, closing her eyes and screaming her lungs out, expecting to be splattered on hitting the floor only to-

She opened her eyes fearfully to see herself levitated just two feet above the ground. Ah, she hadn't fallen, she had splattered into gore and-

"EEEEEEEEEE!"

Apparently, Harry had lost control over his levitation charm once again as Umbridge dropped unceremoniously on the floor with a thud. The flapping sound was enough to let everyone know that her posterior would be paining for days.

"I am sorry, professor." Harry replied, his face holding the image of a very sorry schoolboy. "I lost control over the spell. I know it is a first year, but I promise to do better this time." Before Umbridge could even answer, he flicked his wand again as a bright blue spell shot out at her, giving her large elephant ears and a snout for mouth, with a tarantallegra (the dancing spell) and a Rictusempra (the laughing spell) in quick succession. The students were rolling on the floor laughing as they saw the disfigured professor dancing uncontrollably to Potter's spell. Hermione was holding her stomach as she laughed to the point of tears. Finally, Potter seemed to be satisfied as he smirked and thrust his wand forward and yelled. "Depulso."

The wave of magic that shot out of his wand was enough to lift the disfigured Professor off the ground and hurl her all across the Great hall, a significant distance of twenty feet before she hit the wall with a rather large thud, falling down unconscious.

"She could have raised a shield and stopped it." Harry cried out indignantly. Then his face changed expression as he looked at his wand thoughtfully. "I suppose I put it a little more power in the spell. Oops."

 _Mischief managed_. He muttered inwardly.


	15. Chapter 15 : Reactions

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _The wave of magic that shot out of his wand was enough to lift the disfigured Professor off the ground and hurl her all across the Great hall, a significant distance of twenty feet before she hit the wall with a rather large thud, falling down unconscious._

 _"She could have raised a shield and stopped it." Harry cried out indignantly. Then his face changed expression as he looked at his wand thoughtfully. "I suppose I put it a little more power in the spell. Oops."_

 _Mischief managed. He muttered inwardly._

* * *

 **Inside the Ravenclaw Nest...**

"How do you reckon he did that?"

The group of fifth-year Ravenclaws- Antony Goldstein, Terry Boot, Michael Corner and some of the sixth-years that included Cho Chang and her friend group that included Marietta Edgecombe and Lydia Inglebee, were all discussing about the grand spectacle, or should one say, the way Potter had made a mockery of the duel and trashed Umbridge in front of everyone.

"Do what? You saw Umbridge. She did not know how to counter the spells, and Potter barely used anything fancy. Wingardium, Tarantallegra, basic transfiguration – all were first year spells while the banishing charm at the end was a fourth year skill." Antony answered Terry's question pompously. Terry shook his head. "What do you think, Cho?"

Cho simply shook her head. "He is talking about the silent casting, I take it?" she looked at Terry who nodded. "Harry... Potter could have done all of those spells silently. It was easily visible for anyone to see especially how he levitated Umbridge to that insane height."

"He could have seriously hurt her." Marietta put her two Knuts in. Cho rolled her eyes. "Potter was dueling with her. He was within the rights to perform any spell he could, even if it was within the fourth-year spell range. It is not his fault that Umbridge was hopeless at it." She defended.

"We all know how you feel about Potter." Marietta retorted, 'don't let that cloud your decisions."

"I'm not." Cho returned hotly. "You just have to look at it, and it is visible to the eye. How high can you raise any of us in the air?" She challenged.

Marietta flushed. "I think seven feet at most." Inglebee answered.

"Five."

"Eight, if I did it perfectly."

"I would just let the toad fall on her arse, like she did." Terry answered, making everyone laugh except Marietta who scowled.

Cho looked around with a pleasant grin. "So we agree that it is obvious that he is considerably more powerful than any of us."

"Well he is the boy-who-lived!" Inglebee commented.

"What are you insinuating?" Terry spoke up. Cho turned towards him. "We are Ravenclaws, people. Open your eyes and look. This person, he defeated three other seventh-years and won the Triwizard Cup at barely fourteen."

"He could have cheated." Antony returned skeptically.

"Did you see him cheating against the dragon?"

"Well no but-"

"Did he cheat at the second task?"

"I get what-"

"Then why would he need to cheat against Cedric and the rest of the three?" Cho's eyes were almost tearful now. "Cedric knew him as a friend; trust me on that, guys. Even the Frenchie and Krum were on good terms with Harry before they left. They wouldn't have done that if he had- he had killed Cedric."

"You never know..." Marietta raised.

"He won the Cup. Why would he kill Cedric?" Cho defended. "Besides," she rubbed her eyes, "he is great at Defense. Umbridge teaches us nothing. Potter has demonstrated great prowess at the DADA spells."

"What do you suggest?"

"Let us get a _real_ teacher for the Defense Association." Cho replied primly.

* * *

 **Meanwhile in the Serpent Pit...**

The Slytherin house Assembly was on full session. Unlike the other three houses, the house of the snakes was governed by the House Assembly, which was presided over by three main students, usually selected from the upper years. The three, also known as the Slytherin triumvirate was the main power in Slytherin House. Usually, the three would select their individual protégés who would later become the new triumvirate, after a House election of course. However, in the last one thousand years of the Slytherin House Assembly, there had only been two times when an external contender had fought for the triumvirate position apart from the protégés.

Atticus Montague, Marcus Cuthbert and Elizabeth Rosier- the three triumvirate were presiding over the session. Whatever the positions of the students might be outside the House, every slytherin knew that inside the confines of the Slytherin common room, the triumvirate held the power.

"I vote for Slytherin House to stand in league with the dark lord!"

Daphne rolled her eyes as she stared at Draco Malfoy standing in front of the triumvirate, his chest raised in glory as he made his statement. "With the dark lord's return, it is for the best to return to our place. The dark lord shall prevail and win over the Ministry, and we all will be rewarded."

 _Moron._ Daphne commented inwardly. Draco Malfoy was a kid. An overgrown kid. End of statement. How the ferret ever managed to get into Slytherin house was beyond her. Perhaps age had finally caught up with the sorting Hat, and it was prone to making mistake in its task of sorting young minds. How else could one explain the presence of Draco Malfoy and his slabs of beef in the house of cunning, while Potter was sent to Gryffindor? Her father's words rang in her mind.

 _ **Astoria will be the shield against the dark, by associating with Malfoy. Your job will be to become the sword—powerful, ruthless and pragmatic, a true neutral opportunist in precise terms. If necessary, you will support Potter, because that is what will define you. Stand against Malfoy, become his bane and associate with Potter—that is your job for this year. Remember, you are the bad Auror, and without you, the good Auror cannot do his job.**_

"I do not agree to this." Daphne's words rung loud and clear. Tracey Davis looked sharply at her best friend, wondering what Slytherin plan her friend had hatched inside her mind. Everyone knew that the dark lord was back—it was simply a matter of time before the whisper would change to open proclamations. Given how Lucius Malfoy was the right-hand man of the dark lord, standing against Draco could mean standing against the dark lord himself.

The triumvirate looked at her with an interested expression. "Greengrass, do you want to refute against Malfoy's point?" Marcus asked.

Daphne nodded. Tracey entwined her arm around Daphne's as she looked at her. 'Don't do it', her look meant, but Daphne excused her hand out of her grip and strode forward. "I challenge Malfoy's proposition."

"And what do you propose we do in exchange? Join hands with Dumbledore?" Montague sneered, his expression instantly copied by Draco and some of the others. Daphne schooled her features and took a deep breath. "I suggest we stay neutral until the dark lord reveals himself to the masses."

"He has already revealed himself to his followers." Draco retorted importantly. Daphne turned towards him and regarded him as if she were a magi-zoologist and Draco was an extremely interesting insect. "Draco Malfoy, correct me if I'm wrong but wasn't it your father who pleaded Imperius during the Death eater trials of 1981?"

Her statement met with hisses from many of the spectators, including Draco himself. "Come to the point, Greengrass."

"I have, but you are proving yourself hapless enough to nor yet understand it."

"Greengrass," Elizabeth interrupted, grabbing her attention, "please keep to the point."

"Sorry Eliza, I just found it funny that Lucius Malfoy was the one that yelled out louder than everyone when it came to the Imperius defense, and yet, now that we have rumors of the dark lord being back, his son is actively proclaiming about the dark lord's return as if he and his father were the lord's greatest followers. Quite hypocritical, wouldn't you say?"

"Don't go biting more than you can chew, Greengrass. The legal stuff aside, every pureblood knows the power and authority my father holds, and I will be sure to-" Malfoy began indignantly.

"Tell him what you heard. Yes, yes, I am sure every one of us has your parroting about how your father hears about everything. Now keep it shut, Malfoy." Daphne shut him up. Eliza and Marcus smirked, while Atticus looked solemn.

Malfoy looked ready to snarl, but one glare from Marcus stopped him. Daphne continued. "I know that the legal notices and opinions matter little in this Assembly, but all I want to suggest is this... Can we trust the future of House Slytherin in the hands of someone as fickle and slippery as the Malfoys? After all, it is only _hearsay_ that the dark lord is back."

"The dark lord is back, Greengrass and you know it." Malfoy snarled.

"Sister!" Astoria Greengrass hissed indignantly at her. Daphne ignored her and smirked at him. "You might be correct. I might be wrong." She turned towards the rest of the audience. "If the dark lord is back, then why is he hiding? It has been almost six months since the third task, why hasn't he shown himself publically?"

"You are talking like the moron Fudge." Someone commented from the spectators.

"Might be, but I am at least talking sense. We only know that the dark lord is back because Potter and Dumbledore spread the news publically. We do not know if the dark lord is still as powerful as he once was. All I want to say is that we wait; and we wait in patience for the dark lord to re-demonstrate his great power, and show us proof that only _he_ deserves our complete support, and the support of House Slytherin. Else, openly choosing to support Him without having any knowledge of his present magical prowess would be acting like a Hufflepuff, which frankly, is exactly what everyone following Malfoy is doing." She paused for a moment. "I think that House Slytherin has forgotten its original value of pragmatism, cunning and opportunity and instead has become a dark mirror of Hufflepuff, ready to kiss the helm of a man whose mere parentage and existence is questionable. Prove me wrong. Make me proud."

Whispers inundated the House Assembly. It was clear that everyone was busy figuring out what the elder Greengrass was pointing. Marcus cleared his throat and replied. "That was an interesting perspective, Greengrass, but I would like to seek your clarification on two issues that I found from your statement."

Daphne nodded.

"One, you stated that the dark lord has questionable parentage. How is that?"

Daphne almost rolled her eyes. "Tell me Cuthbert, what do _you_ know about the dark lord's parentage? His family?" Marcus was about to reply but then he stopped midway, considering his words. "The dark lord is the heir of Slytherin?" he offered.

"And you know that _How?"_ Daphne pressed.

"He is a Parselmouth." Draco drawled, almost as if he were trying to explain an extremely easy thing to a particularly dim child.

"So is Potter!" Daphne scoffed offhandedly.

"Don't go there, Greengrass. This is about the dark lord and Slytherin House. Do not bring the golden Gryffindor into this mess." Malfoy warned.

"Right and you are all about being the epitome of Slytherin." Daphne drawled in return. "The dark lord calls himself Lord Voldemort." She replied audibly, resulting in a flurry of shrieks and flinches throughout the room. She rolled her eyes. "It is obvious that it is not his original name, I mean unless his mother named him 'Lord' and he was born into the 'Voldemort' family. As we all now, there is no such family in existence. It is obvious that he is using a pseudonym."

"That is not exactly an _unreasonable_ thing, Greengrass. Many people prefer to use pseudonyms. Mercenaries, plunderers, bounty hunters, you get the idea." Blaise Zabini spoke out for the first time.

"Yes," Daphne agreed. "But we aren't talking about a mercenary, are we? We are talking about someone who proclaims to be the _heir of Slytherin_."

That shut everybody up.

"What are you insinuating, Greengrass?" Eliza spoke up. Daphne looked at her and took a deep sigh. "My mother works in the Department of familial records. Her job description involves keeping a record of the familial records and hierarchy of Ancient and noble families among other things. That is public record. What is not known publically is that the Department also keeps track of various magical traits that are unique to these families and how often these traits recur in the progeny of the family. Naturally, after Harry Potter was revealed to be a Parselmouth, I became inquisitive about it and inquired my mother about Parseltongue."

She paused. "I found something, very, _very_ interesting."

Pause.

"Oh don't keep us in suspense, say it." Yelled none other than Tracey Davis. Daphne rolled her eyes. "I found out that the ability to speak to serpents is not just limited to the Slytherin family. There has been one more ancient family in existence that has recorded Parselmouths in its progeny."

"Impossible," "Which house?" "I didn't know that." Shouts ran abound among the spectators.

Daphne smirked. "The Ancient and Noble House of Black."

Silence.

"The House of Black had Parselmouths in it?" Allister retorted, very, very slowly.

"Yes." _There goes the myth buster._

"That is... interesting." Marcus returned thoughtfully. "What conclusion did you draw from that?"

"It is simple. The line of Slytherin died in the male line around some seven hundred years ago while the house of Black still flourishes on." Daphne noticed Draco puffing his chest up in self-importance and almost smirked. The little boy would soon get what was coming to him. _Soon._ She promised herself. "If the dark lord is indeed the heir of Slytherin, he had to be the son of some squib, especially one who held a different name, since no modern _Slytherins_ exist. That would also explain why the dark lord has gone to extreme means to keep his identity a secret, creating a pseudonym for himself. Why else would the heir and rightful Lord of Slytherin go by something so obscure and _meaningless like Lord Voldemort?"_

Several things happened then at the same time. Draco lunged towards her in his rage, as Eliza raised her wand and shot out a stunner towards the ponce. It hit him in the abdomen as he fell on the ground midway with a thud, unconscious. Pansy Parkinson let out a shriek of surprise as she hurried down to hold her dear prince charming from being bruised while Daphne raised her wand in a defensive posture, ready to defend against any incoming attack.

"It is against the rules of the House assembly for _anyone_ to resort to violence." Elizabeth thundered. Everyone looked down, not wanting to face her wrath. The girl was a demon with a wand, and there were very few who could fight her to a standstill. "Greengrass," she looked art Daphne, "What do you suggest?"

Daphne steeled herself and replied. "As I have stated, we do not know the true origins of the dark lord. The last time, he held the support of Slytherin house but it did not get this house any favorable returns. If anything, the glaring number of death eaters from this house had almost led to the abolishment of Slytherin house altogether. I suggest we stay neutral until we get a better deal. We are Slytherins. We value self-preservation, cunning, opportunity and guile. Let us not be digressed and become blind Hufflepuffs. That is all."

Thunderous applauding ensued in the Slytherin dungeons. Even the triumvirate were applauding to her speech. Marcus seemed to whisper something in Eliza's ear making the girl blush a little but she regained her stoicism soon enough.

"Very well said, Greengrass. Very well said." Surprisingly, it was Atticus Montague who had uttered these words. "I propose that House Slytherin stand neutral until a better option is available to us, just as Miss Greengrass proposed."

The applause continued. Tracey was clapping wildly, happy that her best friend's performance. Daphne almost blushed. Almost.

"Also," it was Eliza this time, "I will take this moment to announce that I, Elizabeth Vincenta Rosier, one of the three Slytherin triumvirate, take Daphne Victoria Greengrass as my protégé and successor for the chair."

Daphne just stood blank, shocked out of her wits, as thunderous applause reigned. She could see that Tracey was laughing and clapping so loudly that her palms must have hurt from it. The first stage of her father's plan was set and now only Potter needed to be convinced properly enough. With sufficient planning, she might get her family out of the oncoming war alive.

* * *

 **Inside the lair of the badgers...**

The game of exploding snap was going on high. Ernie Mcmillian, Justin Finch-fletchley, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Allister Abercrombie and Zacharias Smith- all of the fifth-years were busy playing the game and gossiping about the ramifications of the duel between Harry Potter and Madam Dolores Umbridge. The McMillians were in alliance with the House of Potter, and understandably, he supported Potter both in his belief that You-know-who was back, and the way he wiped the floor with the pink hag. Susan, the niece of the current DMLE chief Amelia Bones, was just as pragmatic as her aunt was, shared Ernie's beliefs, though she was intelligent enough to keep her personal opinions to herself. Her aunt had told her that if Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore were proclaiming that You-know-who had in fact, returned from the dead, the last thing that should be done was not taking them seriously. Being the ever-pragmatic woman, Madam Bones had confessed that even if the news were fake, she could use the opportunity to bolster her Auror forces, something that was in heavy need of funding.

"I still cannot believe that Potter deliberately did all of that," said a mousy-haired Allister Abercrombie. "He all but assaulted her in public. He should be sent to Azkaban for that alone."

Susan rolled her eyes. Of course, Abercrombie would want Potter to be sent to Azkaban. His mother Sarah had a lot of fudge for dinner every weekend, or at least that was the rumor. The department head of Floo network authority, Sarah Abercrombie was an absolute Fudge loyalist.

"Did you hit yourself in the head, Allister?" Ernie defended, "Umbridge consented to the duel. It wasn't Potter's fault that she was a moron who didn't know which end of the wand to hold." Hannah and Zacharias laughed at his statement.

"Still," Allister retorted pompously. "The Minister of magic wouldn't have sent her here if she weren't the best person for the job."

"For the position of Fudge's bootlicker." Hannah mumbled, causing Susan to snort. Allister frowned. Ernie laughed at Hannah and turned to the other boy. "Look Allister, we all know that you are a Sludge, I mean Fudge loyalist. But you need to understand that the hag who pretends to be our Defense teacher knows nothing about the subject. Hell I would go ahead and say that Potter would be a better teacher than Umbridge ever could."

"He is the best at DADA anyway, I am sure he would be good at teaching." Hannah mumbled. Zacharias laughed. "Are you sure that you aren't saying that because you want him to get close and personal and give you a private lesson?"

Hannah blushed a deep red. Susan rolled her eyes. Her best friend had a childhood crush on the Boy-who-lived, a crush comparable to Ginny Weasley of Gryffindor. She could not understand why Hannah did not grow up. Then again, Potter was always quite a catch. The last four years had him performing deeds, which, though shrouded in mystery and held back by the Headmaster, let loose rumors about miraculous feats done by the green-eyed boy. The rumor of the Philosopher's stone, and then about a basilisk of all things... Susan did not know what to believe.

"What do you think Susan?"

"Huh?" she turned towards Ernie, shaken out of her own reveries.

Ernie smirked. "We were thinking that Potter could be a pretty decent choice for a teacher. It's not as if Umbridge is going to teach anything at all in the first place. We all saw what she was worth. Potter wiped the floor with her, and she could not even raise her wand. I heard a rumor that she is actually a squib."

Susan nodded slowly. "So you are suggesting we meet up with Potter and ask him to teach us?"

"Yes, we could have an actual study group and a decent teacher for a change, Besides, Potter is a Gryffindor. He can't say No to our faces." Ernie proposed. Susan looked at him, wonderingly.

 _Somehow, I doubt that._

* * *

 **Among the Lion's den...**

The Gryffindor common room was filled with people. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were sitting on the window ledges, while Hermione stood near the fireplace with Ron and Ginny lounging in the couch nearby. The rest of the chairs were filled with the rest of the students ranging from fourth to seventh years. There were also a couple of firsties sitting in one packed group. There was only one single member absent in the entire meeting, however.

Harry Potter.

"What do you propose, Hermione?" Fred replied, attracting everyone's attention. Hermione fidgeted a bit, but then she stood up and took the center, looking up at everyone. "Well," said Hermione tentatively. "You know, I was thinking today." She shot a slightly nervous look at Ron and then plunged on, "I was thinking that — maybe the time's come when we should just — just do it ourselves."

"Do what ourselves?" George returned.

"Well — learn Defense against the Dark Arts ourselves," Hermione looked at everyone hopefully.

"Come off it," groaned Ron. "You want us to do extra work? D'you realize I am behind on homework again and it's only a month into the term?"

"You are always behind in your homework, Ron." Hermione snapped. "But this is much more important than homework!"

Ron, Ginny and the twins, in fact everyone goggled at her.

"What?" Hermione asked uneasily.

"I didn't think there was anything in the universe more important than _homework_ for you," said Ron. Hermione sent a stinging hex which hit his arse resulting in a pronounced 'Oww, why are you so violent, Hermione?' from him. Everyone laughed.

"Don't be silly, of course there is!" said Hermione, and Ron saw, with an ominous feeling, that her face was suddenly alight with the kind of fervor that S.P.E.W. usually inspired in her. "It's about preparing ourselves, like Dumbledore said, for what's waiting out there. It is about making sure we really can defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year —"

"We can't do much by ourselves," said Ron in a defeated voice. "I mean, all right, we can go and look jinxes up in the library and try and practice them, I suppose —"

"No, I agree, we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books," Hermione returned. "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we're going wrong."

"If you're talking about asking Flitwick to teach us," Lee began, but Hermione cut him off. "No, no, I'm not talking about him," said Hermione. "He's too busy managing his own House and Charms to have time for an extra defense class. Besides, it's not as if Umbridge is going to permit it."

"But she brought him along to teach in the study group."

Hermione looked at the person who had countered her statement. It was Cormac Mclaggen. "Tell me Mclaggen, are you _quite_ sure you know what that hag of a professor is going to do with us in the future? She told Ron to perform a stunning spell, while she herself did not know the basic Protego shield." She pointed out scathingly.

"Who, then?" said Ron, frowning at her. Hermione heaved a very deep sigh. "Isn't it obvious?" she said. "I'm talking about Harry."

"What about me?"

Everyone turned towards the doorway, at the source of the interruption. Standing there, his eyes glowing a vivid bright green as if pulsing with power, was Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry stepped into the Gryffindor common room.

Ever since the scholastic session had begun, everyone had begun noticing the changes in their favorite seeker. Initially, the changes were subtle, but as time passed, they became blatantly visible to anyone who had the eyes to see. Harry was much more composed, much quieter and much more intimidating than he was previously. A few had theorized that being treated badly by the Ministry and the Prophet had turned him cold and raged, but they had truthfully expected to see a grumpy, brooding boy, not a calm and composed person like he had turned out to be. For one, his scholastic abilities had improved drastically, with him almost challenging Hermione to be the first in class to perform a spell. He was already the best in Defense anyway. The Divination group had not seen him taking the Divination class any more while there had been a rumor that he was self-studying runes and Arithmancy to try for OWLS in the subject. Understandably, Ron thought that Harry had gotten barmy, not that Harry had any reaction to that. His reply-"Of course, after all Voldemort is going to play Quidditch with me till the death when he comes for me." Ron had been especially embarrassed at that.

"I will ask one more time, _what about me?"_

Hermione swallowed. It seemed Harry hadn't forgiven her and Ron about the incident regarding the family grimoire. She gulped and strode towards him. Reaching a little closer, she explained. "We were hoping that you would teach us Defense against the dark arts."

Harry stared at her scrutinizingly for a moment, before replying. "Okay, and _why?"_

"Why else? You are Harry Potter and the best in Defense in our year." Ron supplied. A few faces grinned supportively. Harry stared at the rest of the Gryffindors staring at him. "Why don't you ask the seventh-years to do it? They have already gotten their owls, they know it all." He looked sharply at Hermione, "you already have half of the spells committed to memory and can perform them flawlessly, you can teach the juniors."

"Mate, look what you've done! You saved the stone; you saved Ginny and everyone else in the school, and then the dementors and everything. You won the freaking Triwizard for Merlin's sake." Ron tried to reason with him. "Even Angelina thinks that you should be the one to teach." Harry looked at Angelina who looked confused for a moment before nodding in support.

 _And despite everything, you chose the old man over me._ Harry thought bitterly to himself.

He glanced at the twins who were looking at him with supportive looks. He glanced at Colin and his brother who were staring at him expectedly. Colin's hero-worship suddenly glazed in front of his eyes.

 _Is it really worth it?_

"-and then last year you fought with You-know-who himself!" Ron had finally finished his diatribe. "So tell me, who better than you?" He smirked.

"It was luck," he began, noticing the looks on everyone's faces, "No, LISTEN to me. It sounds great when you say it like that, but all that stuff was luck — I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I didn't plan any of it, I just did whatever I could think of, and I nearly always had help —"

Ron and Hermione were still smirking and Harry felt his temper rise; he wasn't even sure why he was feeling so angry. "Don't sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn't I?" he said heatedly. "I know what went on, all right? I did not get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense against the Dark Arts; I got through it all because— because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right. I just blundered through it all, I didn't have a clue what I was doing, And STOP SMIRKING ELSE I AM GOING TO WIPE THAT SMILE OFF YOUR FACE WEASLEY!" He was fairly shouting at the end.

That wiped the smirk off Ron's face. "Mate, I just-"

"No. I won't teach. Besides, there is no point in teaching people when there _isn't anything out there_ , isn't that right? After all, everyone and their mother," his glance darted towards Finnegan who blanched, "-supported Umbridge and whatever shit the Ministry pulled out of its arse and believed me a liar. Why should I teach you all now? After all, I am the one who is delusional and the liar, right?" He sneered.

Every face turned serious. "Harry, mate-", George began but Fred stopped him midway, gesturing him to stop refuting Harry's statement.

"So is this anger on your part? Tit for tat?" Hermione questioned, while the others fell silent. "They did not support you previously so now you ae going to let them go without education and flunk their OWLS?"

A lot of heads nodded with her statement. Harry looked at her coldly. "I wouldn't know, Hermione. After all, I am supposed to be the one who has _drifted towards the dark_ , haven't I? You all are Light wizards; you take care of each other's problems. Leave me out of it." Hermione turned pale at the accusation and felt her words drop down her throat. Finally, she decided on a last attempt and tried. "What do you need in return, then?"

Harry looked up at her. "Excuse me?"

'You heard me." Hermione challenged. "You won't do it, because you don't think we deserve it. It is obvious that you are still bitter about whatever happened and-"

 _You have no idea about my bitterness_. Harry thought.

"-and won't lift a thumb to help us in time of need. So let us do a transaction, a business deal if you will- tell us what you need in return as payment."

Harry stared at her disbelievingly.

 _Is this how you bartered my friendship with Dumbledore?_

His facial features shifted, as the momentary shock vaporized away leaving behind a cold sneer in its place. The Gryffindor departed, leaving the calculating Slytherin in his place. "Very well," he prepared his words. "Tell you what Hermione, do something for me and I will consider it."

"Anything." Hermione replied, looking hopefully at him.

Harry looked around thoughtfully, mentally counting the number of people present. There was at least twenty of them right there. "This is what I want. I want each and every one of you present here, wishing to learn DADA from me, to give me a magical oath."

Every face showed shock and concern.

"An oath?" Ginny recurred.

"Yes, an _oath of détente_. I want an oath of détente from each and every one of you."

"And what does that entail?" Angelina inquired.

"Simple." Harry allowed himself to smile. "We do not raise wands against each other. It will ensure me that in time of necessity; I won't find my own-trained group training their wands towards me. Mostly self-preservation, I hope you understand."

"Harry- don't you trust us?" Hermione pleaded.

"Does the words 'Black family library' mean anything to you?" Harry snapped, shutting her up. "I thought so." He looked at everyone. "That is my price. You get to learn from me; hence, I need the security that you will not raise wands against me in future. Additionally, I will also swear not to raise wands against you. A perfectly non-violent solution in violent times such as this, wouldn't you say, Hermione?" He turned towards her and nodded, almost as if deferring to her.

"I don't find any problems with this." Katie Bell remarked, surprising everyone else. "What?" she defended, finding so many stares at her, "it isn't as if Harry is asking us to be his slaves or anything? He is simply acting out of self-preservation. Very Slytherin, Harry." She taunted with an easy grin. Harry nodded back.

"Take your time and let me know," Harry announced. "After all, it is not me who is in need of DADA training." With that Parthian shot, he turned towards the boy's dormitory and strode towards it. "Good night, Gryffindors."

The entire group sat stumped at the change of situation.

"Well at least he agreed to teach." Ron pointed out intelligently.


	16. Chapter 16 : Room of Requirement

**Previously on Defiance...**

" _I don't find any problems with this." Katie Bell remarked, surprising everyone else. "What?" she defended, finding so many stares at her, "it isn't as if Harry is asking us to be his slaves or anything? He is simply acting out of self-preservation. Very Slytherin, Harry." She taunted with an easy grin. Harry nodded back._

" _Take your time and let me know," Harry announced. "After all, it is not me who is in need of DADA training." With that Parthian shot, he turned towards the boy's dormitory and strode towards it. "Good night, Gryffindors."_

 _The entire group sat stumped at the change of situation._

" _Well at least he agreed to teach." Ron pointed out intelligently._

* * *

By the time, it was dinner, the previous night, the news that Harry Potter had consented to teach DADA to the students had spread like wildfire. Along with that, the other part of the news had travelled throughout the student population, even faster than the original news. Different people took the fact about Harry Potter seeking a détente with everyone wanting to learn from him in different ways. Some of the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors took it as an indication about him going dark, and saw the détente as Potter's way of cutting out all possible confrontation. Some Slytherins, especially the triumvirate thought that it was a very Slytherin behavior demonstrated by the boy-who-lived. Ravenclaws, like the intellectuals they were, took it upon themselves to study all about the détente oath and the stipulations and the loopholes in said oath. Professor Mcgonagall chose to raise her eyebrows in surprise at Potter's behavior, Snape sneered and called it as his arrogance showing, Dumbledore decided to demonstrate disappointment (no surprises there), while Flitwick and Sprout took it in good sport. Dolores Umbridge, who was still spending time in the school Hospital wing, sneered and snarled at the news. It was a pity that she had broken her arm in the duel; else, a letter would have reached Cornelius Fudge by this time, something along the lines of _'Dumbledore is making Potter build his army, and cutting out future confrontations by using oaths.'_

Daphne personally took the entire thing with a scowl. She had to undergo so much to get Potter to even agree to teach her. She conveniently ignored the fact that she had not asked him directly and had resorted to clandestine activities and Potter had led her through a proverbial goose-chase. Now Potter was offering his tutoring to anyone and everyone who could raise a wand and utter an oath of détente towards him. It drove her crazy.

 _I swear Potter will be the death of me._

She took out the piece of vellum and an ever-filling quill from within her robes, and making sure to cast a privacy ward all around her, she began to write on it.

 **Meet me on sixth floor. 8 p.m. sharp. Don't be late.**

 **G.**

Putting the vellum away, she wiped off the proverbial dust off her robes as she looked around the Hall. Potter was sitting at the Gryffindor table, tasting treacle tart slowly. At least the boy had better table manners than the Weasley brood alongside whom he spent most of his time. Then again, that was past—she corrected herself. The latest fact about Potter was that no one knew where he spent his time. He would magically appear for classes and meals, then vanish for the rest of the day, only to reappear at night when it was time for bed in the Gryffindor dorms. Either Potter was trying to build up some kind of mystery about him, or it was something... else.

Finishing her dinner, she stepped out from the Slytherin table along with her friend Tracey to walk towards the dungeons. She was barely halfway when she felt the vellum vibrate inside her robes. Seeing her stop suddenly, Tracey looked at her in confusion. "Something wrong?"

Daphne glanced at her and swiftly replied, "No, I need to visit the library. Just remembered something."

Tracey sighed. "And here was me, thinking that you were having a secret affair, and were going off for a quick shag." She let out a long-suffering sigh. "A girl can only hope."

Daphne looked at her with an _unbelievable_ expression for a moment, before Tracey muttered, "Fine, you go. I will return to the dorms alone." So saying, she took off towards the Slytherin dorms, leaving Daphne alone to herself. Quickly, Daphne hid behind a pillar and cast a notice-me-not charm on herself. Getting the vellum out, she saw that her _tutor_ had indeed sent a message.

 **I thought you had a secret room ready for intimacy.**

 **Never mind.**

 **P.**

Daphne rolled her eyes. Whether it was Potter's attempt at flirting or he was just being himself, she could not guess. Disillusioning and silencing herself, she quickly strode towards the sixth-floor corridor.

* * *

Daphne reached the sixth floor and just as expected, there was no one. Not one single person. Knowing that Potter might be present and disillusioned, she quickly leveled her wand at the corridor and whispered, _"Homenum revelio maxima."_ A wave of aquiline blue radiated out of her wand, expanding into the entire corridor.

Nothing.

Daphne felt elated. Potter had not yet shown up. She checked the time.

 **8:10 P.M.**

She quickly cast an alert ward as she dropped down to the edge of the left wall and sat down on the floor. She wondered if she could at least blame Potter for arriving late (after all, she had been the one to arrive early) and whether that would give her a decent start into her negotiations. Silently, she began wondering what Potter might be able to teach her. She would have loved to learn wandless magic, if she had the ability, but that was beside the point. Potter had yet to prove that he was decent at teaching (perhaps it had been a little too early for her). She hoped that the entire dealing would at least turn out something productive at the end.

"You sure believe in the _fashionably late_ style, don't you?"

Daphne yelled out in a most unladylike fashion, jumping away from the wall. The sudden shock had broken her control and the disillusionment charm faded. Looking back, she found Harry Potter standing behind her, smirking at her form. Quietly, she picked herself up from the ground and stood up; trying to maintain whatever remained of her dignity. Potter was still holding that blasted smirk on his face.

"Where were you? I didn't see you come in." She asked. Privately, she wondered why the trigger ward hadn't responded when Potter entered the sixth floor. After all, she was the one to arrive first.

"Me? I was here since eight. I _saw_ you enter the corridor five minutes late, quite unexpected of you, really," he shook his head in a disappointed manner, though Daphne could see it that clearly he was mocking her, "-and then you cast off the disillusionment charm and set up the ward- Speaking of wards, you do know quite a lot on the subject. I wonder how, since wards are taught in sixth year Runes and Arithmancy."

Daphne stared at him.

"What?" Potter asked, curious.

"It is not possible that you entered before me. I checked the entire corridor." She refuted.

"Well, maybe you didn't check well enough..." He replied evasively. "Enough of that, you mentioned that you have a secret room for training. What are we doing here then?"

Daphne bit her lip, observing that for a moment, Potter's eyes paused at her lips. So, he wasn't _that immune_ to her charms, she mused. She felt a little jig inside her heart, finally getting a reaction from the boy. "I have a secret room, but before I show it to you, I need to know if you are actually decent at teaching me. I mean, our entire dealings have rested on the assumption that you can actually teach decently. I wish to acquire some proof before I reveal my secret room to you."

 _Bait._

Potter raised his eyebrows. "I like it. A challenge it is, then. Well then Greengrass, I suppose we should train in my own room then." He paused, "though I am afraid it is hidden as well. I am sure you understand."

Daphne nodded.

"Very well, come with me." And with that, Potter faded from view. It was different from the usual disillusionment; rather it was as if he was there one second, and the next moment he was not. It was completely abrupt, unlike the gradual fading caused by the disillusionment charm.

 _Strange._

"Where to, Potter?"

"Seventh floor." Replied a disembodied voice, one she knew very well.

* * *

The Gryffindor and the Slytherin stood on the seventh floor, staring hard at the wall in front of them. Daphne tried to detect any concealment charms, but found nothing.

"Now?"

Suddenly, Potter drew close to her, very close, enough that she could feel his breath. Her fingers entwined around her wand, only for her to remember that they had a détente. Cursing herself, she allowed him to draw closer until he was just next to her ear.

"The room of Requirement is located on the seventh floor in Hogwarts, right opposite that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls."

Daphne widened her eyes, as she understood what Potter had just done. He had told her a secret, a _Fidelius secret_. Merlin! He had his own private room protected by a _Fidelius_ of all things. How on earth had Potter even successfully done that spell? She watched, as the plain corridor suddenly seemed to expand and form the tapestry of Barnabas the barmy, and could see that a portion of the wall on the opposite side had expanded as well.

 _Wow._

Her respect for Potter's skills grew exponentially. A Fidelius! Merlin! A Fidelius was something that could be attempted only by the strongest of wizards. Her father could not even do one. Besides, the spell required a powerful intent, enough to distort reality itself. The _intent_ to hide something must be so great that it would be able to _bend reality_ just to make the concealment possible. That was exactly why the Fidelius was one of the most difficult spells known to wizard kind.

"How- how?" she stuttered.

"How what?" Potter asked, trying to be deliberately infuriating.

"How by Morgana's laces could _you_ perform a Fidelius of all things?"

Potter looked confused. "I assure you, I did it using _my wand_."

Daphne withheld an extremely powerful urge to punch him in the face. The shock vanishing on spot, it was replaced with a sneer as she stared at the wall in front of them. "Tell me Potter, did you waste your spell to hide a wall?"

"No."

"I am not really seeing anything here." She snapped.

"Of course, you don't."

Daphne tapped the ground with her foot, trying to control her irritation. "Well?"

Potter seemed to have no intention to reply anything. He only shifted and walked in front of the wall from left to right, and then back and then again. Daphne wondered if all the magic he was learning had turned him barmy. Perhaps it was the presence of Albus Dumbledore during the summer, in which case, he was positively barmy and needed to see a mind healer soon.

Potter had walked across the wall three times, and then he walked back to where she stood as he faced the blank wall. Then, he hissed something aloud. It was scary, listening to him hissing to the wall. Daphne assumed it was some kind of password as a giant door materialized in the wall in front of them. Opening the door, he stepped inside, ignoring the look of wonder on her face. Then, he looked back at her and asked, "Coming?"

* * *

It was a humongous, spacious room, lit with flickering torches- similar to the ones, which illuminated the dungeons. The walls were lined with wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs, there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors, and a large Foe-Glass just like the one Moody had in his office, the previous year. Daphne looked around wide-eyes as if she were a kid in a candy store. Her eyes stared at the shelves holding books in them. She strode ahead and running a finger along the spines of the large leather-bound tomes. " _A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions..._ _The Dark Arts Outsmarted... Self-Defensive Spell work..._ wow..." She looked around at Harry, her face glowing. The presence of hundreds of defensive books had finally convinced her that her choosing to deal with Potter was right. "Potter, this is wonderful, there's everything we need here. What is this place?"

Potter smirked. She could have sworn that for a moment, there was something like nostalgia in his eyes, but he shook it off very quickly. "Glad you liked it."

"What is this place?" she whispered reverently.

"This," he extended his arms in a showman fashion, "is the Room of Requirement. This is the only room in entire Hogwarts that has the capability to become whatever one wants it to be."

Daphne narrowed her eyes. "Whatever I wish it to be?"

"Yes."

Not wanting to take Potter by his word, Daphne closed her eyes and thought hard. Then, she opened her eyes. To her greatest surprise, she was standing in the balcony of her own home. It was just... surreal.

"Wow..." she whispered reverently.

"First day of training, and you show me your home? You sure work fast, Greengrass."

Daphne blushed in embarrassment, but did not change the scenery. She strode ahead and touched the vase on one corner. It seemed perfectly real. "This... This cannot be real. This vase was procured using a specific type of volcanic soil. Yet, the texture feels the same."

"This Room was once known as the Room of Illusions. The moment you enter this place, it casts an illusion on you, allowing you to be able to shift the scenery to whatever you want, wherever you want. Anything you find here is temporary, and cannot be taken out, with some exceptions of course."

"Like?" Daphne asked inquisitively.

"Like those things that are actually real. The books for instance, are simply summoned from the Library, especially from the restricted section, but I assume you knew that already." Daphne nodded in answer. Potter continued. "Things left behind by other users of this room are other examples of things you can take out from here."

"And _you_ cast a Fidelius over this... this amazing masterpiece?"

"Of course," Potter shrugged. "I now have the best room in Hogwarts all to myself. However, now I have to share it with you. On second thought, the idea scares me." He put on a face of mock horror and Daphne almost giggled before she controlled herself. She was Daphne Greengrass, and had an ironclad control over her expressions and emotions. She couldn't giggle.

"Let's get down to what we came for. DADA tutoring."

Daphne nodded, mentally wishing for a chair. Instantly, a comfortable-looking chair materialized on the ground. She sat on it, and found it surprisingly comfortable. She looked up and found Potter smirking at her.

"You done?"

Daphne blushed, and nodded. "Very well." He took out his wand, and not for the first time, Daphne marveled at the beautiful wand he held. It was jet black, with alternate lines of gray drawn on it. The hilt was elaborately carved out of ivory and had a thestral on it. Tapering on one end, the wand looked more like a dagger than a wand.

"That's a _different_ wand. I have never seen one like that." She could not help herself.

"Yes, it is very special. It has been in my family for several generations." Potter spoke reverentially about his wand, caressing its body with his fingers. Almost as if in response, the wand shot out several sparks of gray from its tip.

"What happened to your... you know... your own wand?" She prodded, quickly realizing that it had been a personal question. Potter looked up at her. "It turned to dust." He replied simply.

"Oh." She did not know what to say to that. Wondering what might have happened that could have caused his wand to turn to dust, she looked at him and gestured to continue.

"Right. Let us begin with a duel shall we? I need to know where you stand, and how much hard work you need to do." Potter replied.

Finally. Here was a chance to finally show Potter that she wasn't someone to be played with. Momentarily, she allowed her to bask in the thought of having Potter at wand tip. The feeling was great. She stood opposite him, moving behind by a few feet to secure a reasonable distance between them. The room all around them faded as it shimmered to reform back into a standard dueling compound.

"Rules?" Potter offered.

"Non-lethal."

He shrugged. Daphne trained her wand like a sword towards him, taking small steps sideways and making sure that her body was ready to dodge at a moment's notice. She wiggled a bit, ignoring the grin on Potter's face as she nodded.

"Good _show,_ Greengrass, now. Let's duel."

Instantly, she yelled, "Stupefy!" as a ray of crimson shot out of her wand towards him. Potter simply cast a _Duro_ charm on his left fist, converting it into stone as he pounded the stunning spell with his stoned fist. The spell deflected away and hit the ground. Daphne gazed at him open-mouthed, only to shriek in surprise as a bluish spell almost grazed her shoulder.

"First rule of fighting: Always keep your opponent distracted." Potter proclaimed before he grinned and sent a quick succession of normal hexes. Nothing fancy. Just the regular banishing hex, coupled with some Incendio and occasionally, a cutting hex towards her torso. However, that wasn't the important part. The important part was that the shielding movements for the cutting hex was completely opposite to the one for protecting against the Incendio and banishing hex. He quickly alternated between the two spells making Daphne hastily try to procure a shield, or dodge to avoid getting hurt. Finally, a stray banishing hex passed through her shields and hit her in the right leg, making her fall on the floor.

"Second Rule: Always attack. The moment you decide to defend, you lose half the battle. Keep on attacking, and you have a chance. You can be creative, dominating and confident. Defend and you are reduced to the mercy of the opponent."

Daphne grit her teeth. A part of her could not help but feel exhilarated at the way Potter was teaching her. It was fun and exciting- she had to accept it. Perhaps the deal was not _that_ bad after all. An idea came to her mind. She almost let the grin show.

"Help me up." She returned, extending her hand upward from her fallen position towards Potter who stood in front of her. Potter extended his hand and held hers, pulling her up, when she suddenly jerked back and pulled him on top of her. In that tiny moment, she spun and landed on top of him, her wand trained at his neck.

"How is this for keeping an opponent distracted?" She was panting heavily. Her eyes spotted Potter staring at her incredibly kissable lips from up close. A part of her could not help but feel proud of the accomplishment.

"Very well done, Greengrass." Potter replied, "However-" Daphne could feel something poking into her abdomen. "-never believe you have won until you have the enemy dead or incapacitated." Something slammed into her, throwing her away on the ground, as Potter stood up, training her wand at her fallen form. "You never know what tricks the opponent might just have under his sleeve."

Daphne grit her teeth...

"And here endeth the lesson."

After almost an hour of tedious practice, Daphne retired for the night. She wished him good night (which was perhaps the only sincere thing she might have said during the entire period) and ushered herself out of the room. Disillusioning herself, she walked all the way back to the dungeons. She never noticed the pair of eyes spotting her as she entered the Slytherin dorms.

* * *

Harry saw Greengrass close the door and felt her cross the alert ward, signifying that she had indeed crossed the corridor. Wishing the door to close, he closed his eyes and felt the magicks surrounding him shift. The last one month had been rather progressive, as far as his personal training had been concerned. The schedule he had prepared and followed with Sirius at the Black manor had continued in Hogwarts, only that the amazing Room of Requirement had replaced the Black library. He opened his eyes and found that the room had shifted into his favorite training ground with six dummies ready to fire at him. For a moment, he wondered if he should have, had come clean _completely_ with Sirius about the changes that had come in him in the summer. Perhaps he should have...

 _Nah..._

His wand in one hand, and a ball of pure magic in other, he stood calmly, waiting for the dummies to attack. The dummies seemed to sense him ready and quickly shifted off on six different sides as they began the attack.

Six different stunners flew out from the six wands towards him in the center, only for Harry to wandlessly levitate himself upwards for a moment. It was something he had been working on since he had started training with Sirius. Now, he could easily levitate himself from one place to another, and even fly to a considerable amount, although the task consumed huge amounts of raw power.

Standing in the air above the dummies, he sent multiple bursts of magic from his left hand while throwing powerful reductor curses from the wand. The dummies moved away, as he jumped down on the ground, rolling to escape another spell fire as he trained his wand at the new attacker and hissed in Parseltongue.

"Ossis Fragmen."

The entire dummy cracked under the force of the spell and shattered while two more dummies quickly reformed in its place. This was his training program, The moment he would destroy one dummy, two more would form in its place and the process would continue until he had finally incapacitated (and not destroyed) them, or was himself rendered unconscious. It was a crazy plan, and understandably, Sirius Black did not know anything about this at all.

Four other dummies leapt towards him, raining down severing hexes and bludgeoners at him, only to have him raise a powerful shield to block them as he rolled and cast a tiny banishing charm on himself, throwing himself out of the range of the attacks. Stabilizing his feet, he raised both hands and whispered in Parseltongue.

"Malleus pugno."

A huge shaft of air slammed against the four dummies and threw them against the wall. Any more power and Harry was sure that the dummies would have been pulverized. Quickly, he cast petrifaction hexes, incapacitating them for good. There was a good reason for using Parseltongue. It achieved multiple ends. For one, Parseltongue being a magical language, empowered spells to at least twice the standard power. Secondly, since there was only one Parselmouth in Britain at the moment, casting spells in Parseltongue had the benefit that he could overpower spells and yet no one would understand what spell he was casting. Thirdly, since familiarity was the cornerstone of magical mastery, regular and prolonged use of Parseltongue made it more natural to him and he was being able to consciously shift to Parseltongue without bothering to conjure a snake. The Parseltongue spells he had acquired from the treatises in the Chamber of Secrets as well as from the Black library simply sweetened the deal.

 _Four done. Four left._

He grinned. The four dummies let out a roar and sprung upon him, firing severing hexes at his torso. Harry jumped and spun in the air, his wand automatically spinning back into the holster as he gathered two pulsing balls of raw magic before hurling them towards the two dummies, pulverizing them to dust. He saw the other two dummies jump towards him as well as the four newer dummies materialize and fire blasting curses towards him. He dodged and weaved through the curses, in a way that would have shocked professional duelists, as he cast powerful impedimenta charms on all of them, binding them with a final wide-area petrifaction hex. He landed on the ground, his feet completely in coordination with the dummies falling on the ground with a resounding thud.

Harry let out a deep breath. A month ago, he would have questioned himself to death how he had done what he had just performed, but now- it was normal. He was used to the fact that for some reason, he had access to a treasure trove of ancient knowledge in battle magics, and that the knowledge was hidden somewhere in the depths of his mind. He had assumed that during his fight with Voldemort, something similar must have happened in the battlefield, though why he did not remember the Fidelius was still uncertain to him. After all, whenever he received some new information, he would retain it. Ever since he had _taken up the wand_ and started his personal training with Sirius, his physical and mental abilities had sharpened significantly. He would be able to take on a death eater any time now, or at least that was the idea. Sirius was still working on that subject but Harry was optimistic. After all, in order to protect himself and his family, he needed to be powerful and importantly, test his strengths. Now and then, he would get access to some of the ancient magical knowledge, mostly during conditions of life and death. That was the major reason why he had formulated such intensive training. The more he trained, the more he found himself in dangerous situations, the more access he got to privileged magical education, and the more it would propel him to place himself in harder battles and life-threatening situations. It was one vicious cycle. One that was very Gryffindorish in nature, but it offered great results.

His mind went back to the wardstone chamber at Black Manor. Precisely, the portrait of his doppelganger- or should he say, the horse of death. For some reason, the nightmares that had been troubling him had died the moment he had taken up his new wand. Ever since then, he would have normal sleep with occasional dreams about thestrals, and on some particular occasions, about his doppelganger- a Harry Potter with stormy gray eyes.

Speaking of thestrals, it was time to work on the other part of his training- one that Sirius had begun, but Harry had taken over once he had returned to Hogwarts. The Animagus transformation. It had been nearly two months since he had begun the training and had acquired great breakthroughs so far. He could shift into his form but it was not as smooth as he had seen Sirius transform. Sirius could jump up, transform into Padfoot, and shift back before his feet reached the ground. Harry still took around five seconds to properly transform into his form and an equal amount of time to transform back- something he was working on wholeheartedly.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he willed his features to change. He could observe his skin change and become more taut and hairy, felt his limbs lengthen and extend into long hooves as his backbone lurched backward and curved while a long appendage extended out of his posterior. His cheekbones lengthened as his eyes changed and then he felt two extra appendages shoot out of his forelimbs and expand into large, bat-like wings. Where he was, now stood a reptilian, dragonish creature, around seven feet tall with even wider wings. His entire body was hairy and covered with dark hairs, with the only familiar thing being the bright-greenish hue inside the pupil-less eyes.

A thestral. And Mcgonagall had told them that transformation into magical creatures was impossible. Bollocks.

Being a thestral had its advantages. They were physically as powerful as a hippogriff and could fly at great speeds. It wasn't comparable to flying on a Firebolt but the sensation was better than riding a broom. The creatures were similar to demiguises in the manner that they could choose to disillusion themselves upon wish, and were fundamentally invisible to those who had seen death. It would have been rather difficult for him to transform into one had he not seen death himself. Sirius would perhaps have found it to be a great prank.

Sirius had christened his animagus form as _Shadow_ , quite appropriate given how Harry had become quite accomplished at staying out of people's notices and his animagus form shared similar characteristics. Harry let out a neigh and then transformed back.

Three seconds.

 _Damn, still need to work on the timing._


	17. Chapter 17 : The new High Inquisitor

**Previously on Defiance...**

 _Sirius had named his animagus form as Shadow, quite appropriate given how Harry had become quite accomplished at staying out of people's notices and his animagus form shared similar characteristics. Harry let out a neigh and then transformed back._

 _Three seconds._

 _ **Damn, still need to work on the timing.**_

* * *

 **Two days later...**

 _An extract from the Daily Prophet..._

 **MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM: DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"**

 **In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.**

" **The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time," said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. "He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve."**

 **This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the wizarding school. As recently as August 30** **th** **Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.**

" **That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts," said Weasley last night. "Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she's been an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the ground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts.'**

 **It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor.'**

" **This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the 'falling standards' at Hogwarts,' said Weasley. "The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted."**

 **The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.**

" **I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation," said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. "Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation."**

 **Among those 'eccentric decisions' are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror 'Mad-Eye' Moody. Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts.**

" **I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence," said a Ministry insider last night.**

 **Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts. "Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office," said Madam Marchbanks. "This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore."**

 **(For a full account of Madam Marchbanks' alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page 17).**

Percival 'Percy' Weasley, junior assistant to the Minister of magic, folded the newspaper and kept it gently on the newspaper table. Sipping a mug of hot tea (which was too bland for his tastes, but if the minister liked it, he _had_ to like it), he looked up at his senior and Boss, the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge who seemed to pore over some of the old and frail-looking documents he had ordered from the Ministry archives. They were the original contracts behind the creation of Hogwarts, a time when the Ministry of Magic had not come into existence. The more he read it, the more his mood turned bitter. Percy could not help but wonder if the Minister would turn into a fire-breathing lizard if he continued reading whatever it was he was reading.

"Might I be of some help, Minister?" He offered.

Cornelius shot him an instant filthy look, an expression which softened nearly instantaneously as his mind registered Percy's words. His facial expressions changed into those of a tired, old man, fighting single-handedly against the evils of the world as he expressed. "I have been trying to ensure that Hogwarts could be turned into a Ministry-run school, instead of the private funding that it has been receiving all this while. Unfortunately, it does not seem possible."

"Why?" Privately, Percy did not think it was a great idea. The Ministry-run schools were, in a way of talking, more like dummies than actual schools. Then again, given the falling standards of teachers at Hogwarts, it did not seem to make a difference. His years learning under Snape and Binns came to mind. He wondered if Umbridge was any good, since the woman could hardly tell one end of her wand from another. At least, she was a Fudge loyalist and that was the true intention behind sending her. A part of him could not help but think about his brothers- he might have condemned them for the sake of his aspirations, but blood was blood. It was a shame his father did not see it from his point of view. The last he had heard, he had moved in with the entire family to live with Dumbledore's secret brood, whatever it might be.

His thoughts went back to his brothers. Bill and Charlie were out of question, since both were working and were out of the Ministry's control or influence, what with Bill working with goblins and Charlie with the Dragon Reserve. No, he was more concerned about his brother in school- not the twins, the two demon-spawns were enough to support each other and bear any harm. He privately prayed that Umbridge would not have the unfortunate desire to be on their bad books—the twins could be rather ruthless in their pranking. No, Percy's immediate concern was his youngest brother, Ron.

Percy was not a bad person, or at least he did not consider himself as one. He always knew what he wanted to do in life. He had had big grades, followed by the Prefect position and had bagged the Head boy job, and he had worked tremendously hard to acquire it. In the deepest portions of his heart, he knew that he did not want to grow up to become a paper-pusher, but had wanted to try for some research job with the Unspeakables. Unfortunately, he had to leave his dream behind, since trying for a job at the Department of Mysteries involved having a number of years of work experience first. Hence, when he had been offered the job as Barty Crouch's secretary, he had immediately leapt at it. The job was good, and Percy was a hard-worker. The Hat had after all, told him that Hufflepuff was a good choice for him.

He furrowed his forehead as he remembered the devastation he had participated in the previous year. While everything had been hushed up very quickly, Percy had quickly figured it all out. Apparently, it was not Crouch he was working for- but his Azkaban-returned, insane-crackpot of a son. Barty Crouch junior.

Ever since that revelation, he had decided that he was a danger—his aspirations were a danger to his family. Therefore, he had gone forward and done the thing he could do- break all ties with his family. While it had seemed that he was blood-traitor, he knew better. By siding with Fudge, he had rendered his family immune from Fudge's wrath. Now with the hag being at Hogwarts, there was only one person left to save.

Ron.

 _I need to do something about it._

"The founders were very serious about Hogwarts being sovereign and out of the influence of the nobility and the Lord's gathering- the legislative body that preceded the Wizengamot." Fudge remarked with disdain, "—and have established certain... protections should the nobility try to seize it. For all intents and purposes, the Headmaster is the Lord and master of the castle."

"So you need to push Albus Dumbledore out of the Headmaster's job?" Percy urged. Privately, he wondered if that was even possible. The positions of the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump were one thing, but this...

"It's just not that, Weasley," Fudge confessed, "-only the Headmaster has the right to select his successor, irrespective of the Ministry's wishes. Even if I were to say, pull a few favors and push Dumbledore out of the post, I wouldn't be able to get control of the castle."

 _Interesting._

"I'm sure you could put him out and plant Madam Umbridge in his place." Percy quipped. Flattery would take you everywhere, he mused. To his surprise, Cornelius shook his head gravely.

"Not possible, Weasley." He sighed. "Even if Dolores could be moved to the Headmaster's position, it wouldn't be in accordance to the Hogwarts' constitution and hence, the ownership of the wards of the school would remain with Dumbledore instead of Dolores."

 _Assuming she has the ability to understand how wards work, of course._ Percy thought.

"What do you suggest, Minister?"

"We will, of course, try our best to remove Dumbledore off from the Headmaster's post. Wards or not, I will not allow the old, deceitful manipulator to stay in control and influence the heirs of our noble families who go there to acquire their education."

 _Too right._

Percy thought it was the pot calling the kettle black.

"Whatever you say, Minister. I am sure Madam Umbridge will be a great asset to our cause." He got up, "By your leave?"

Cornelius jerked his head. Sighing, Percy left the room, his mind busy framing letter he needed to send to his youngest brother.

* * *

 **Meanwhile at Hogwarts...**

"Please come in," Dolores welcomed in her sickly-sweet voice, "—and take a seat."

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger stood where they were, their minds giving them alarm signals that perhaps, they had gotten off biting more than they could chew. The DADA instructor, who had been offered the post of 'High-instructor' that very morning, now held a more-powerful position than any of the other professors in the school. Personally, Hermione thought it to be barbaric and completely unprofessional. Ron had similar views but not because he agreed with Hermione, but because he simply hated the old hag.

The office was... wait; _this was an office of a Professor?_ It looked like the room of a five-year-old snotty little girl obsessed with kittens and the color pink. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large Technicolor kitten wearing a different bow around its neck.

It was... _awful._

Dolores Umbridge walked behind her desk and relaxed into her chair. She was wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that blended very well with the tablecloth on the desk in front of her.

"Now, you too have been the main culprits responsible for the chaos in my classes ever since Day One. While punishments cannot be alternated to suit the guilty one's convenience, I do want to make amends to our already degraded teacher-student relationship and start again."

Hermione and Ron looked at her wide-eyed. This... hag wanted to make amends? Had Harry's banishing spell hit her too hard on the head?

"Would you like some tea? Perhaps with some treacle-tart? I assure you that this will be a very long discussion. I do intend to understand why you are being so unruly in my class, while Mister Potter, who was the original perpetrator behind the lies about a certain dark wizard's return, is staying mightily quiet? It seems that even he understands that the Ministry of Magic cannot be fooled, Boy-who-lived or not. Forgive me, but I fail to understand why the two of you are so insistent in putting your heads on the guillotine."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and then back at the despicable woman.

"So... Tea?"

* * *

The next morning, a large sign had been affixed to the Gryffindor notice board, so large that it covered everything else on there. The lists of secondhand spell books for sale, the regular reminders of school rules from Argus Filch, the Quidditch team training schedule, the offers to barter certain Chocolate Frog cards for others, the Weasleys' new advertisement for testers, the dates of the Hogsmeade weekends, and the lost-and-found notices- all of them went covered by the large banner. The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.

 **BY ORDER OF**

 **THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS**

 **All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded. An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.**

 **Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.**

 _ **The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.**_

Hermione was reading the notice at a frighteningly slow pace, almost as if she was trying to decipher any traces of doublespeak in it. For some reason, her head was aching, and it had been aching ever since she had woken up in the morning. The previous night, she had been to detention with Ron to Madam Umbridge's quarters where the despicable hag had tried her best to convert them to her side of the fight. They had explained her how Harry and Dumbledore were indeed telling the truth, and despite everything, the woman refused to take their words as the truth. Instead, she had given them punishment- Writing lines using a special set of quills she had procured. Hermione had not thought much about it but no sooner had she started to write, the upper surface of her palm began to itch and turn red. The more she wrote, the more it itched, and by the time, she had written the lines - 'I must not tell lies' twenty times, her hand was bleeding profusely. There on the surface of her palm, the same line was itched, as if someone had etched it using a blunt dagger. It had pained a lot, but she had vehemently disagreed her proposal to side with her against Harry and Dumbledore. Harry might have been behaving like a bastard recently, but she could not just betray him and Dumbledore to the Ministry, when she knew very well that they were telling the truth.

Hermione rubbed her forehead. The happiness she had felt about having a proper teacher for DADA (despite Harry's clauses and his changed behavior) suddenly vanished as she felt anger trickling down her spine.

"This isn't a coincidence," she said, her hands forming fists. "She knows."

"She can't," said Ron at once. "We never mentioned it publicly to anyone, except those who had signed the parchment. She couldn't have known it."

It was the truth. Hermione, Ron, the twins and a large group of students from all houses excluding Slytherin (a group of twenty-eight students to be exact) had met at the Hog's Head three days ago. They had taken advantage of the fact that Umbridge was in the hospital and had had a secret meeting about the secret defense group they wanted for their own. It had been, well, almost, a success.

 **Three days earlier...**

"So who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his butterbeer and taking a swig. While he would have liked nothing better than to stay ten-feet away from Granger and Weasley, Sirius had convinced him that it would only bring more of Dumbledore's attention on him. Sirius had been especially indignant when Harry had revealed to him how his two best friends had betrayed him to Dumbledore, and had advised him to actually use it all for his own benefit. That was why he had done a good job of keeping his head down and continuing her own practice, and let Hermione and Ron attract Umbridge's attention to them while Harry could prank the woman to next week and back, just as he had.

 _Misdirection. The difference between a good prank and an awesome prank._

"Just a couple of people," Hermione repeated, checking her watch and then looking anxiously toward the door. "I told them to be here about now and I'm sure they all know where it is — oh look, this might be them now —"

The door of the pub had opened. A thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd of people. First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with Cho and one of her usually giggling girlfriends, then (on her own and looking so dreamy that she might have walked in by accident) Luna Lovegood. Then Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson walked in, followed by Colin and Dennis Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones and two Hufflepuff girls Harry did not know. Three Ravenclaw boys-Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot then came in while Ginny came in last with Fred and George Weasley with their friend Lee Jordan, all three of whom were carrying large paper bags crammed with Zonko's merchandise.

"A couple of people?" said Harry hoarsely to Hermione. "A _couple of people_?" Inwardly, he could not help but feel pleased at the number of people who would be oath-bound _not to fight him_ for any cause in the future.

"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," said Hermione happily. "Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?" Ron looked quite bemused, and went outside to ask for some more chairs to be sent in.

The barman had frozen in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy it looked as though it had never been washed. Possibly, he had never seen his pub so full.

"Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly. "Could we have . . . twenty-eight butterbeers, please?"

The barman glared at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted in something very important, he started passing up dusty butterbeers from under the bar.

"Cheers," said Fred, handing them out. "Cough up, everyone; I haven't got enough gold for all of these..." everyone contributed some sickles for the miniature party that seemed to be starting soon.

Harry watched calmly as the large chattering group took their beers from Fred and rummaged in their robes to find coins. A horrible thought occurred to him that they might be expecting some kind of speech, at which he rounded on Hermione. He might be powerful and skilled, but he was not one for speeches.

"What have you been telling people?" he hissed. "What are they expecting?"

"I didn't tell them anything." Hermione snapped back. "They found me. The news about you offering tutoring in return of oaths was popular enough without me having to poke around it." Harry continued to look at her so furiously that she added quickly, "You don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first."

He glanced at everyone present there. Cho wasn't looking at him as if he was eye-candy (at least for the moment) and ignoring the giggling girls and the couple of whispers, the audience looked fairly sharp and willing to hear him speak.

"Er," said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. "Well — erm — hi." The group focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.

"Well... erm... well, you know why you're here. Erm... well, Harry here had the idea, I mean-"

Harry had thrown her a sharp look. Hermione instantly backpedaled, "I mean, I had the idea, that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense against the Dark Arts — and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us." Hermione's voice became suddenly much stronger and more confident — "because nobody could call that Defense against the Dark Arts."

"Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein, and Hermione looked heartened — "well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands." She paused, looked sideways at Harry, and went on, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the _real_ spells —"

"You want to pass your Defense against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?" said Michael Corner.

"Right," Hermione agreed, "and then I found that a lot of people from other houses were wanting the same-"

"Don't forget your own, Hermione-" Angelina quipped.

"Right, err-", Hermione looked flustered for a moment, "All Houses excluding Slytherin that is-" she continued (ignoring the 'dark scum' comment by Ron) and gained her confidence back soon enough. "Because all of us share this problem of a lack of a proper teacher and since everyone wanted Harry to teach them-"

"In return of an oath, I concur-" Terry remarked. Harry nodded and stood up, making Hermione automatically shut up as she sat down next to Ron. He cleared his throat. "Okay, guys see—there is this thing I want to tell you, if everyone is willing to listen."

Pin drop silence pervaded as every eye turned to Harry.

"I am not here to try to convince you that Voldemort-" he couldn't help but feel amused at the flinching all around him- "—is back and all, since I have learnt it from the best that the magical population of Wizarding Britain like to put their heads underneath the sand and wish for the danger to get mitigated on its own. I have seen you all and that includes Gryffindors-" he gave a passing glance to Ron and Hermione, "-glorifying in my glory whenever there was one. I have seen my friends yell out in joy when I caught the snitch, winning the Quidditch matches for Gryffindor, but that did not stop them for treating me badly and accusing me to be responsible for the attacks on people in my second year." The Gryffindors looked down in shame while the other houses passed each other worried glances. Harry continued, "I have never once even boasted or used the tag-' Boy-who-lived' to describe myself or glorify myself, because all I have ever wanted to be was normal. In fact, as of right now-" he could not help but smirk a little, as he raised his right fist, "-I am presently the Lord of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Black."

A rush of whispers succeeded his statement, as everyone looked at each other excitedly. "As per to Gringotts' statements. I am at present one of the richest wizards in Magical Europe, much richer than Malfoy I may add, but you don't see me strutting around as if I own the place like a peacock, do you?"

Everyone fell down silent.

"All these years at Hogwarts, I have been glorified one week and vilified the next. You people stood up to enjoy the glory of being associated with the boy-who-lived, yet it did not stop you from vilifying me as the _heir of Slytherin_ and accuse me of cheating in the Triwizard Tournament." Ron felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment, as Harry continued, "I lost my parents to the dark bastard, and yet here I, have to suffer the taunts of the wizarding populous, calling me delusional and a liar."

Pause. Everyone waited with baited breath for his next words.

"Since we have already established that you all cannot be trusted, especially when it comes to me," Harry paused, feeling a tad amused at the guilty faces in front of him- "there is absolutely _no_ reason for me to teach you anything."

Silence.

One.

Two.

Three.

Then the pandemonium began. Harry raised his wand and fired up a spell that resounded like a cannon ball. It was a good thing he had cast privacy and silencing wards around the place, he mused. "That brings us to the topic of concern, the OWL exams."

Silence again, as the students felt a little hope stir in them.

"I am not like you guys, and hence I will not look down on someone that needs my help, but given how you all have betrayed me in the past, it is crucial that I take steps to protect myself. Self-preservation, as Katie had beautifully construed the previous day." Said girl blushed and nodded.

"Hence, the oath of détente. You shall not fight me, and I shall not fight you. Plain and simple. I do not want to try to control you, nor try to restrain you. However, in all frankness, let us assume that someone of you join forces against me in the future. Wouldn't it be a folly on my part to raise my own enemy?"

Every single person nodded.

"That goes with it. You learn from me, you swear never to attack me. This doesn't prevent you for casting spells on me for unless you mean to harm me, you can duel with me during the training for all you want."

Silence.

"Well that was it, thank you." Harry stepped back to his seat, while Hermione took the stage again. "Well that was a very illuminating talk, Harry," she glanced at her best friend as she turned back towards the rest of the audience, ""We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, "is that she's got some... some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."

"Are you?" Zacharias Smith questioned.

"Of course," Ginny answered for Hermione, "after all, the junior students of Hogwarts are known world-wide for their battling skills. Why, I do believe there was a world war or two in which a fifth-year Hufflepuff fought several hundred dark wizards on his own."

Everyone chuckled while Zacharias looked mollified.

"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere—a place where we can all meet," said Hermione. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting." She rummaged in her bag and produced parchment and a quill, and then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something.

"I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," She took a deep breath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge — or anybody else — what we're up to."

Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully put down his signature, but Harry noticed at once that several people looked less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list. When the last person — Zacharias — had signed, Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it carefully into her bag. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.

 **Back to the present...**

Hermione quickly shook her head off the past incidents, swearing that there was no way the charms on the parchment had failed to work. Someone knew about the group and had notified about it to Umbridge, it would only be a matter of time before the perpetrator would be caught.


	18. Chapter 18 : Family Matters

**P** **reviously on Defiance...**

 _Hermione rubbed her forehead. The happiness she had felt about having a proper teacher for DADA (despite Harry's clauses and his changed behavior) suddenly vanished as she felt anger trickling down her spine._

 _"This isn't a coincidence," she said, his hands forming fists. "She knows."_

 _"She can't," said Ron at once. "We never mentioned it publicly to anyone, except those who had signed the parchment. She couldn't have known it."_

 _It was the truth. Hermione, Ron, the twins and a large group of students from all houses excluding Slytherin (a group of twenty-eight students to be exact) had met at the Hog's Head three days ago. They had taken advantage of the fact that Umbridge was in the hospital and had had a secret meeting about the secret defense group they wanted for their own. It had been, well, almost, a success._

* * *

 **The next morning...**

"POTTER!"

Harry raised his eyebrows elegantly at the sudden change in the tone of voices around him as he regarded the unwanted presence of his self-declared nemesis in front of him. If he had to make a bet, he would say that the news about his dual-lordship, or more precisely, his being the Lord of Black was what had brought the young Malfoy heir raging in front of him. Draco looked ostensibly similar to a fire-breathing dragon at the moment, and Harry could swear that his ears were steaming in anger.

"Yes... Malfoy?" Snape would have been proud of the way he drawled. Speaking of Snape, the hated Potions Master was avoiding him for some reason, though the look of hatred on his face seemed crystal clear, and if the looks of revulsion he gave him at moments were any indication, Harry was sure that Snape was just one-step away from hacking him into tiny little morsels and use them in his potions. Not wishing to lose his breakfast, Harry discarded the thought and focused on the little ferret at hand. If the self-appointed Prince of Slytherin (Harry had guffawed when Daphne had mentioned the term to him) had come all the way to the Gryffindor table during breakfast, it was certainly not because he wanted to wish him a good morning.

"What is this I hear about you lying about being Lord Black?" Draco snapped.

Harry felt his eyes twitch. What was it with people believing him to be lying ever time? In fact, it was so ridiculous that he wondered why his name hadn't been changed to 'Liar Potter' instead of 'Harry Potter'. Given the way Fudge was spearheading the Ministry and using the laws (and inventing some) for his benefit, he could see that one coming in the future.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, he raised his right fist towards the blond ponce, too lazy to even get up for the boy. The Black signet ring materialized in his ring finger, much to the other boy's shock and rising fury. The change in the boy's countenance was remarkably quick, and had he not known better, he would have suspected the boy to be a metamorphmagus like Miss Tonks.

"This is IMPOSSIBLE!" Draco shrieked in fury, his eyes blazing with rage, "I am the heir Black and soon to be Lord Black on my birthday."

"Really?"

The curious and skeptical tone in Harry's voice caught him off-guard. Draco paused, and then returned heatedly, "Really? Of course, really. My father told me that I am the heir of Black, and that I will be the Black Lord by my seventeenth birthday. My father will not let this travesty go-"

"Well, there goes your solution!" Harry replied eagerly, clapping his palms like an excited ten-year-old.

"What-what do you mean?" Draco asked, unsure of this new Harry Potter. He was used to the Harry Potter that would argue back heatedly, the one who was easy to infuriate, the Gryffindor golden boy. He could not understand how to deal with Potter who could counter back his arguments with logic and a cool head.

"Well," Harry began in a matter-of-fact tone, not unlike the one Hermione used while lecturing him in studies previously, "—you just said that you are the rightful heir and should get the Lordship at seventeen, and that your father would take care of the travesty, correct?"

Draco nodded, almost dumbly.

"Awesome!" Harry clapped again, much to Draco's confusion, "—so that ends it. When you are seventeen, do remember to come to me. If you are the rightful heir, you will get what you deserve." His eyes then narrowed sharply and glowed with eldritch energies, as his tone changed to feral and he hissed. "Till then ferret, I am the Lord Black and you better remember it. _Now leave this table and let me eat, you worthless excuse of a wizard_." The last sentence was said in Parseltongue, making Draco nearly wet himself in fright as he stepped back and darted off to the other table.

"Well that was fun." Harry remarked, feeling as if he was suddenly being the center of attention for the Great Hall. The students, staff and even the pink hag was silent, though even from this distance, he could see her glaring at him. Deciding he had enough of the attention, he did the thing he did best. Sitting down on the bench, he continued to his feast on his breakfast.

"HARRY POTTER!"

 _There goes my chance at a peaceful breakfast._

He lifted his chin to stare at the angry glare of Dolores Umbridge, and tilted his head slightly with a curious expression. "Yes, Madam Umbridge?"

"MADAM HIGH INQUISITOR!" Umbridge, bellowing to correct him. Harry smirked at her. "Whatever you say."

Umbridge seemed to swell up in anger, if that was even possible. "DETENTION!" she screamed, as her lips twisted in sick pleasure.

"For?"

"Causing disturbance in the Great Hall and demonstration of dark magic in the Great Hall. I will expect you to come to my office at five in the evening, for your detention."

"No."

Every single eye turned to him.

"Excuse- me?"

"No." Harry repeated, standing up now that he knew for sure that breakfast would not be an activity he would get to do in peace.

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Umbridge screeched, standing up from her seat. To Harry's surprise, none of the teachers were saying anything. The Headmaster was absent. Even Snape was silent, observing the entire situation.

"Be my guest!" Harry waved her off, as he turned his back at the staff table, walking out of the Great Hall, leaving a fuming Umbridge behind.

* * *

 **Later in the Office of the High Inquisitor…**

"What do you mean Harry Potter is the Lord Black?" Cornelius fumed, glaring at Umbridge through the Floo as if it were all her fault. "Lucius personally shared with me that his son was the Black heir."

"He wears the ring." That was all Dolores had to say.

"The ring? That _cannot_ be possible. He is what- fifteen? He is not of age." Cornelius ranted absent-mindedly when his eyes widened with glee— "—AHA! Potter is not of age, and yet he is illegally holding the Lordship of Black. What an excellent opportunity!" His gleeful face turned to Umbridge, "You have given me an excellent information. We will now get to put him in a criminal trial. Unlike the previous attempt, this one must not be sabotaged at all costs." He regarded the woman with an intimidating expression, "I want you to get me as much dirt as is possible on Harry Potter. With a little effort, we will be able to lock him up in Azkaban for good. The boy must learn not to pick up fights with his betters."

Dolores smiled. The sharp front teeth on either end looked rather scary.

Cornelius looked rather pleased. "The previous information that you supplied to me have been rather... useful, I must say. Potter and Dumbledore have been neck-deep into illegal things lately, as I suspected of course. Killing a professor? That is enough to send him to prison for twenty-five years at least. Fighting another one? Holding people at wand-point? This is extremely sensitive and powerful evidence. With a little support from the Wizengamot, the Boy-who-lived will be a criminal, nothing more."

"As we had garnered, Minister." Dolores added, making sure to emphasize upon the 'we', much to the Minister's consternation.

"Of course, of course, and what was it now? A secret defense organization? I knew Potter and Dumbledore were trying something similar."

"Indeed."

"I want you to catch them red-handed. We need proof before we act, and once we get them, we can get rid of the old bumbling coot for good."

"Of course, Minister." Dolores returned in her sickly-sweet voice.

* * *

 **In the Gryffindor dorm...**

"Harry, do you think what you did in the Great Hall was right? You just painted a big cross on yourself." Hermione chastised him. Much to her consternation, Harry neither showed any kind of defiance nor rose up to her bait, he just lounged on the couch lazily.

"I know what I have done, Hermione. Moreover, yes, I know what can happen. After all, I have seen what happens when you paint a cross on yourself this year. You and Ron have been rather exhibitionistic about that." Hermione blushed in embarrassment, but did not say anything.

"Do you know of a place where we can all train without interference?" she asked primly.

 _Yes._ Harry thought in his mind. "No."

"Damn," Hermione swore in frustration. "It is OWL year and we don't even have a place to study. Umbridge is breathing down our necks and we are all helpless. Even the Headmaster is powerless to stop her. She's torturing everyone with those quills of hers and now-ARGHH!" She turned to Harry with desperation in her eyes. "Come on, Harry, no one is more resourceful than you in these cases. Find us a room where we can all train in peace. I am even ready to _negotiate_ something in return..."

Harry's eyes glinted.

* * *

 **Sometime later...**

"Harry, if this is your idea of a joke..." Hermione tried, but Harry would just not listen. The two of them walked all the way to the fourth-floor corridor, the one that housed the Hogwarts library and just one single lane away from the Ravenclaw common room. It was one of the most populated places in Hogwarts during nighttime, and knowing the Ravenclaws and their love of the library, it was commonplace for students to walk past it all day. Hermione herself traversed the path every day and every night.

"I know this corridor like the back of my hand, Harry, there is _absolutely no_ place here where we could-" her words stopped in her throat as Harry stopped in front of one of the two unused classrooms in the corridor.

"This? You couldn't have gotten another unused classroom in the entire castle, Harry? I am appalled that you are treating all of this as a joke, you-"

"Hermione," Harry suddenly cut her short, "-has anyone ever mentioned it to you that you talk too much?"

Hermione shut her mouth and waited blankly. Not willing to argue any further, she simply waited for Harry to explain. 'This is the _perfect_ room for training. It is large, it is unused and the best thing, it is located so close to the library."

"How will that help?" Hermione blurted out, unable to constrict her inherent reaction of demanding answers. Harry faked a long-suffering sigh and continued, "Since it is close to the library, one gets to use a proper alibi- going to the library." Harry exclaimed with a flourish.

"Uh, question." Hermione raised her finger as if she were asking a question to a professor.

"Yes?"

"I can't help but point out one single loophole. You see," Hermione, exclaimed animatedly in return, "if they look into this room when we are having our sessions, they will still CATCH US RED-HANDED!"

Harry almost looked mollified, then his countenance shifted and a smirk flitted across his lips. "I never said I was done explaining." He whipped his wand out and-

"Harry, that is not your wand, where is your-"

"Hermione, what have I told you about speaking-"

"Sorry!"

"Right- so let's do this..." He lifted his palms as if in prayer and put them together, folding them onto each other as he called on his magic... His hands glowed with an ethereal eldritch energy as he chanted...

" _ **Ad imaginem dei,**_

 _ **Mutata ego mundo**_

 _ **Ego tibi dabo potestatem...**_

 _ **Fidelius... maximas...Potestatem ostendere..."**_

He eyes shot open, his eyes burning with energy, as he extended his hands outward, a chain of white light joining both of his hands as he smashed both of his palms into each other...

" _Fidelius... The meeting place of the Defense Association is the third room from the library on the fourth-floor corridor of Hogwarts."_ He turned towards Hermione who looked shocked, amazed and completely gob smacked.

"Hermione Granger, _you_ are named Secret keeper. Will you treasure the secret with your soul in the same manner and spirit as it was given to you?"

Hermione looked flustered for a moment, before she nodded, "Yes, I will."

"So, have you said, so mote it be. _Fidelius ostendere_." With that, the glow left Harry's eyes as they turned back to their usual shade of green.

"You- you- you performed a Fidelius?" Hermione stammered.

"Yes, Hermione. The secret now, if you please?"

Hermione looked blank for a moment. "oh, of course." She looked strangely disarrayed as she walked towards him and whispered into his ear. "The meeting place of the Defense Association is the third room from the library on the fourth-floor corridor of Hogwarts."

Harry seemed to be hit by a freight car for a moment before he looked composed once again. "Damn, that spell messes with the head... Anyway, hope you have your answer now, right?"

Hermione looked half-shocked and half-enraged.

"Remember our _deal_ ," he whispered into her ear as he walked past her, leaving her to register his words and nod dumbly, before the reality of what her best friend had just performed and its associated dangers came to her mind. She spun around, both enraged and worried as she yelled, "Harry James Potter, how on earth could you perform a Fidelius of all things? Dumbledore said it was one of the hardest spells. You could have died, you could have-"

The place was empty. Harry Potter had vanished before her eyes.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" she yelled into the open corridor.

"Damn!"

* * *

"Never thought you would be such a composed duelist, Potter." Daphne remarked as the two of them continued to trade spells with each other in the Room of Requirement. The spells were all standard ones, with nothing fancy. It was kind of an unspoken rule between the two of them- while powerful and showy spells had their uses, the two of them worked with simple spells, which were faster to use and could be employed in spell chains during a duel. After all, that was what Daphne had wanted to learn.

Daphne dodged the spell cutting hex and then threw a wide-area banisher towards Harry who simply kneeled and allowed it to swerve past his head as he sent a bludgeoner to her abdomen. She swiftly raised a deflective shield and threw another set of stunners in quick succession, firing at him from different angles. Instantly, Harry used his _Duro_ trick to convert his left fist to stone and beat the stunners away. Daphne raised an eyebrow and spun around, sending another succession of banishers and hexes towards him, but Harry simply weaved through them and then suddenly spun back in the air. The entire thing was so lightning fast that Daphne could not believe her eyes. She raised her wand to throw another curse only to-

"Accio…"

The thought that he hadn't named the object he wanted to summon had hardly crept into her mind when an overwhelming force pulled her straight towards him as he thrust his wand towards her…

"Depulso!" He smirked.

WHAM!

The huge wall of air hit her face first, hurling her back as she fell on her back. She hit the floor with a thud, feeling her posterior bruised and paining with the fall. Harry simply raised his wand in front of her face and challenged, "Yield?"

"You win." Daphne answered automatically, putting her wand back into the holster as she tried to pick herself up. Rubbing her back, she looked at him and questioned, "Where did you learn such unconventional ways of fighting?"

Harry simply shrugged. "Picked it up here and there." He replied evasively. Daphne did not question further. Potter could be downright stubborn and evasive if he wanted, especially when it came to private questions about his knowledge or his training.

"I hope you will allow me to watch you during your private training sessions, someday." She urged.

"Perhaps," came another evasive reply.

Daphne shook her head. Perhaps she could try another approach sometime in the future. "Slytherin House has voted to stay neutral until the Dark Lord reveals himself publically."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "That is quite… unexpected, Greengrass. Did you have something to do with it?"

Daphne allowed herself to bask in the glory of her recent achievement. "Yes, I might have had something to do with it."

"And what will Slytherin House do when Voldemort shows his face?" Harry raised his wand, gesturing that it was time to cut the break out and begin another round of dueling. It was what they always did- initially they would discuss a spell or two, and then duel with each other, with him occasionally teaching her a few titbits here and there.

"It will depend on the outcome." Daphne spun her wand in a half-circle and create the beginning of a spell chain before she thrust her wand to start trading spells. She dodged the incoming hex and yelled out, "Reducto!"

"What kind of outcome?" Harry urged, flicking his wand as he sent her most powerful spell away, deflecting towards the floor. The area scorched under the effect of the spell. Daphne noticed how the devil spawn effortlessly deflected her most powerful spell, but refused to allow herself to get dazed by it. It was the first thing she had learnt from him- never get caught up by any fancy show by the opponent.

Harry smirked. The girl was good, very good, he had to accept it. He moved a little towards the left as he sent a wide-area bludgeoner towards her. Just as expected, Daphne put forward a powerful shield and intercepted the hex.

"I must admit, I never thought you to be the showman type." Daphne mused loudly, as she traded some stunners towards him. Harry simply dodged them and replied, "What do you mean?"

Daphne laughed. "You demonstrate Parseltongue in public, you make Malfoy run like the ferret he is, and then openly defy Umbridge. If that wasn't Gryffindorish, I do not know what is."

Harry grinned. "Well, the hag had it coming. Besides, I do not understand why _you_ look down at Gryffindor. After all, _Godric Le Fay_ was the most accomplished and feared battle mage during his time."

The words had the desired effect. Daphne widened her eyes in surprise as she registered what he had just told her, as she lost some of her concentration. A powerful bludgeoner came galloping at her, and slammed into her, throwing her back into the floor once again.

"Oww! Why is it always my butt, Potter?" she complained, rubbing her back with her left hand, as she stood up. She raised her wand, and tried to diagnose the injury.

"What can I say, you make them quite the target." He returned.

"Would you like a closer feel then? To be sure?" Daphne flirted back.

"I would, but then your other parts would start to crave my touch and we would end up wasting our dueling session, busy in something else…though equally enjoyable I'm sure," Harry drawled, wagging his eyebrows. Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Enough dillydallying around, Potter, get back to the topic," Daphne urged, "what were you saying about Gryffindor? Le Fay?"

"Caught on, have you?" He mock-complained. "Well, it is true. His original name was Godric Le Fay. After an incident when he defended his clan village from a horde of Gryffins, the tribe awarded him the epithet of _Gryffindor_ , which meant 'Lord of the Gryffins' in their native tongue."

"Oh."

"You will find that none of the four founding Houses of Hogwarts have any kind of family name to stick to, except for Ravenclaw. The House of Ravenclaw is an ancient house, though I figure none of the descendants from the original line are alive."

Daphne raised an eyebrow.

"What about Slytherin?"

"It is a name taken by Salazar Grim when he and his brother decided to move out of the main family to create their own. The Grim family, whose native residence was in Blackmoor, took the name Black for the future generations to come."

Daphne looked at him shell-shocked. Finding her voice, she replied, all the while stammering uncharacteristically, "You mean, Salazar Slytherin was a Black?"

"In a way, yes. It should be a clear giveaway since both Black and Slytherins have a snake as their symbol, though only Black has the adder as its family totem."

"Ours is an owl," Daphne returned, not sure why she wanted to say it.

"Of course, the House of Greengrass is a descendant of the line of Le Fay, after all."

"What do you mean?" Daphne narrowed her eyes. While she knew that her family had ancient roots, it was a completely different experience to get to know about her own family from someone else.

"Morgana Le Fay had an animagus form of an Owl. An eagle owl, to be exact. The Ancient family of Le Fay divided itself into the Houses of Longbottom, Greengrass and Nott."

"And how did you know all of that?"

Harry suddenly reached closer to her, reminding Daphne how uncomfortably out of control she felt whenever he invaded her personal space, as he whispered into her ear. "I read."

Daphne ignored the sudden urge to smack his face as she frowned at him. "How can I be sure that you are not making this up?"

Harry shrugged. "Suit yourself. Or if possible, delve into your family grimoires."

Daphne narrowed her eyes. Family Grimoires. It was almost unusual for almost anyone, even the lord of the family to read his family grimoire. Most traditions and customs were forwarded down the progeny by word of mouth. Besides, the family grimoire housed ancient magic, magic way too powerful and complicated for most people to perform them. Suddenly, a thought flitted through her mind, something her father had mentioned in one of the letters.

 _ **The Potters have had Warmages in their family and it is believed that their family magic revolves around battle-transfiguration. The Blacks, on the other hand, were notorious for the use of illusions in their battles. If Potter is demonstrating illusions in public, it simply indicates that the boy has his hands on the Black family magic.**_

"What about your family?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What about mine?"

Daphne felt a little bolder. "The Potters are known to have Warmages in their family, while the Blacks were notorious for their illusions. You have demonstrated illusions publicly before. It is obvious that you have been dabbling with your family magic."

"Consulted with your father, have you?"

"Hardly. It was common knowledge, or at least it has been for me." She lied. If Harry could sense that she was lying, he did not give it away. He just shrugged.

"You did not answer." Daphne pressed.

"Was there a question?" he returned blankly. Daphne cursed inwardly. The way Potter would shift seamlessly from being the infinite reservoir of privileged knowledge to a downright stubborn moron was more than a little frustrating at times. Had she not known any better, she would have thought that Potter had some kind of split personality or something.

"Have you been dabbling in your family magic?"

"Family magic? That is a wonderful accusation. Tell me Greengrass," His eyes shone with uncharacteristic power, "—do you even know what my family magic is really about?"

"I am guessing battle magic, maybe something DADA related. I must confess that my initial idea was that the reason behind your… formidable DADA skills were because you were studying your family magic."

Harry smirked. "The Potters did not have Warmages in their family, contrary to your knowledge. In fact, most Potters have been slightly more than mere traders, dealing with everyday magic. My family has almost always been business-oriented. It is the original family we were descended from that were Warmages."

"And what family was that?"

"Peverell."

Daphne assumed that it was the light playing tricks, for there was no way that Potter's eyes would glow like she had just imagined it to be when he had mentioned the word.

"Peverell?"

"Yes."

"Never heard of it."

"You shouldn't. The Peverell name was wiped out around five hundred years ago before Godric Le Fay was even born. The name had changed to Potter already by then."

"So your family is as old as they go?"

"In a way." Harry shrugged.

"You speak of battle mages and Warmages as if they were different." Daphne accused.

 _Smart girl._ Harry mused. "Warmages and battle mages have as much in common as a thestral has with a unicorn."

Daphne mused over it. Thestrals and unicorns were both magical horses, though thestrals were more reptilian than mammalian. Thestrals were treated as dark creatures, while Unicorns-

"What is the difference?"

"I thought I already told you that." Harry stared at her. "A battle mage is a protector, usually tied in service to some royal family or tribe and their main function is to defend. While they are fearsome warriors, ready to both kill and shed their own blood for honor at a moment's notice, most of their magic was Light."

"And a Warmage?"

For a second, it seemed like Potter's eyes seemed more feral than ever. "A Warmage is a _butcher_ , Miss Greengrass. One who has the _darkest_ of magics at his disposal, one who will use every trick in the book- light, dark, elemental, necromantic, anything and everything than can be used in the offensive- a Warmage will use them. Warmages do not have a _fixed_ family magic—they were parasitic, growing out of other magics, defeating families and kingdoms and absorbing their magics into their own. I believe that even the _weakest_ Warmage of _my_ family could make your _Lord Voldemort_ ," Harry drawled the name out, "look like a puny kid."

"And how do you know all of that- no wait. Don't answer." Daphne frowned, knowing that he would be intentionally vague or something. Harry smirked.

"What about the Black?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"The Black family magic? You have used illusions in public before." Daphne demanded. At her expression, Harry begun to laugh. "Illusions? You call what I did in front of Snape as an illusion?" He snorted off again.

Daphne stamped her feet, not liking that Potter was having fun at her expense. "Then what is an illusion, pray tell-EEEEE!" Her left shoulder was suddenly pulled, making her spin back to look into the bright green eyes of Harry Potter. She widened her eyes in shock as she turned back again and could see Harry Potter standing behind her, grinning at her shock and inability to hold her usually composed demeanor.

"Like it, Greengrass."

Daphne nodded numbly, looking back again to see no one behind her. She turned back front to see five Harry Potters standing in front of her, and in an instant, they all amalgamated into one, who looked casually at her, and grinned.

"Enjoyed the show, Greengrass? Hope to see you next day." With that, Harry Potter vanished off from the room, leaving her alone. Daphne let out her breath, something she just realized she had been holding all this while. Clutching her head, she sat down on the ground, trying to put a word to the feeling of disorientation that her mind was going through at the moment.

This was madness, she decided. Though, one thing was fixated for good in her mind. Harry Potter was not the spawn of the devil. He was the devil himself.


	19. Chapter 19 :Riddles, Horcruxes and Trust

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _"As we had garnered, Minister." Dolores added, making sure to emphasize upon the 'we', much to the Minister's consternation._

 _"Of course, of course, and what was it now? A secret defense organization? I knew Potter and Dumbledore were trying something similar."_

 _"Indeed."_

 _"I want you to catch them red-handed. We need proof before we act, and once we get them, we can get rid of the old bumbling coot for good."_

 _"Of course, Minister." Dolores returned in her sickly-sweet voice._

* * *

 **Inside the Headmaster's Office…**

Albus Dumbledore did not like secrets. Oh not that he did not like to keep secrets, not at all. On the contrary, he hated it when someone else kept secrets from him. It drove him insane, trying to figure what someone was hiding. On a completely different note, the moment he had excavated and deciphered the true secret and whatever it was that it meant, he would lose his interest in said subject and person, unless of course, there were other secrets to be discovered. Like the one behind the recipe of the original lemon drops created by an Italian who had come to visit Britain in hope for building a business out of it. The business could not be set up due to unexpected difficulties, as unfortunate as it was. However, Albus Dumbledore had drawn out the secret recipe behind those lemon drops (it was a wonder how much one could get with a little bit of passive Legilimency and a wandless compulsion charm, not that he would ever accept the fact in public) and ever since then, he had his own tiny factory unit that created lemon drops only for him. After all, it wasn't as if he had any future generations to leave any of his fortune.

However, lemon drops were not the topic of concern for the day. No, there was something much more important, not that lemon drops weren't important- those freshly prepared confectionaries with the right mix of sweet and sour were supremely delicious and had it been a perfect world, he would have been the world's largest confectioner of these delicacies. However, the world was far from perfect and hence, today's agenda for thought was a young man who seemed to have a number of secrets all around him, as if like a cloak. A young man, who went by the name of Harry Potter.

Harry Potter had changed, and to be honest, the change had started right from the moment he had entered the confines of the Black townhouse. More precisely, ever since Sirius Black got his hands on the boy. However, it would be unfair to say that the changes had been unexpected. No, in fact it was far from it. The moment he had heard the boy speak about Tom had used his blood to resurrect himself, that was the very moment he had concluded that the ritual would double the link between Tom and Harry- encouraging the horcrux in the boy to have a stronger hold on him. He had estimated that by the time the summer was over, Tom would be able to figure out the presence of the connection between his and Harry's mind and begin to slowly influence the boy. It was a given, and Dumbledore knew that this was the only way by which the little boy could be saved from an inevitable death, or at least, was his _best chance_ to remain alive.

The plan had been remarkably simple. The moment Harry had written to him about his dreams, he had understood that the connection between Harry and Tom was growing stronger, giving Harry access to Tom's mind, and owing to Tom not having a proper and powerful body, the reverse wasn't possible. After the ritual, Harry and Tom had become doubly bonded- one by the horcrux, and the new one by blood. A double anchor might just be the only thing that could kill the horcrux while anchoring Harry to life while Tom lived. A single trump card- a single path that would work in accordance to the prophecy's words and ensure Voldemort's defeat. The unfortunate words still rung in his mind like a warning…

 _ **And either shall die at the hands of the other,**_

 _ **For neither can live while the other survives.**_

The play of words was the key thing to understanding the true meaning of prophecies. Harry and Voldemort both had to die at the hands of the other, and assuming the prophecy fulfilled itself-Voldemort would kill Harry at some time in the not-so-distant future, preferably by the killing curse since it was his signature spell. The double anchor could prevent Harry from dying, while at the same time, liberating the soul shard from his body, freeing the magical bindings that Dumbledore had placed upon him after the initial incident on Halloween 1981. While the bindings kept the soul shard weakened, it also drew a significant amount on Harry's magic. Moreover, the blood wards required _more than just love_ to fuel them- like all wards, they needed a source of _power_. Power that was available from the only wizard living at Privet Drive- Harry himself. It would keep his magic at an all-time low, making sure that the Dursleys would not have to face the troubles that accidental magic could bring upon them.

A _win-win_ situation. Harry got a normal life with his blood relatives. The Dursleys got a normal boy to bring up. He got his blood wards. The horcrux stayed weakened. Everyone could be happy.

It had worked exactly that way, though Dumbledore mused that Petunia could have done with caring a little more about the little boy he had placed under her care. Albus had believed that the son of her only sister would find motherly love in her. He had been wrong. The boy had grown up in a loveless environment, and had grown up lacking in self-worth. That explained his tendencies to please others and his white-knight complex.

Albus shook his head. Once again, he had digressed from the main point of concern. Yes, once the bindings would be free, the boy would have access to his entire magical potential, and perhaps finish Voldemort for good. He was already Tom's equal in magical power. The prophecy ensured that. However, the horcruxes would need to be taken care of, first. Perhaps he should invite the boy to some _private_ lessons and teach him all he knew and guessed about those vile abominations. No, the boy's mental link could not be trusted at the moment. Not until Tom resurfaced publicly at least.

 _I will have to wait._

Albus had no problem in waiting. In fact, patience was the name of the game. The die was cast, and the first person to speak would be the one to lose. No, he had the entire year to sit and observe the changes in Harry Potter before he would take the boy's education in his own hands. Moreover, with Cornelius and Dolores plundering the state of affairs at Hogwarts, it was best if he kept a safe distance from the boy.

Just as he had expected, Harry Potter showed remarkable changes this year. However, the special point of concern this time was Sirius Black. The boy had spent an awful lot of time with Sirius, something he was concerned. How much of Harry's changes were because of Sirius and how much were of the horcrux? It was difficult, _very_ difficult to say. His mind went back to one of the very few direct conversations he had had in presence of the boy.

 _ **"Harry is, to quote his own words, done with Magical Britain, its hypocrisy and Voldemort. All he desires is to be simply left alone to study for himself, like a child of his age should. Wasn't that was what you were professing the previous day?" Sirius taunted.**_

 _ **"I—yes, I mean, yes of course, he is a child and a student. This is not his war." Dumbledore stammered uncharacteristically.**_

 _ **"Then I am sure you will not mind if he dedicates long hours to his own education in his family magics? Plus, as I have heard, his years at Hogwarts have had indecent and underqualified teachers lately." Sirius ignored the snarl that Snape gave out. "I am sure you will agree that he deserves to be left alone, studying in peace."**_

How he wanted to know and inspect _what_ it was that Harry was studying. Was it Harry at all? How much was Harry, and how much was Tom? For the record, if it were Tom, it would mean that Tom had _complete_ access to the Potter and Black family grimoire at the moment. The idea simply sent a cold shudder down his spine.

However, not all was lost. The reports from Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley (Ronald, he reminded himself, since there were too many Mr. Weasleys out there) showed that Harry had not shown any kind of negative attitude towards anyone, though he wasn't the white knight he had been previously. The use of the détente oath was a fascinating idea, though considering what the boy had been through- it was simply a product of the public behavior against him.

 _Maybe it is still Harry. Maybe the horcrux hasn't had that much of an influence on him as I had initially feared. The boy is truly wonderful._

Indeed. It was magical how, despite having the life he had lived; Harry Potter had an incredible capacity to love. While he had been demonstrating some ruthlessness recently, he could account the changed behavior to self-preservation more than he could to anything else.

 _Besides, the boy could be a good Slytherin, given how resourceful he is. Resourcefulness and self-preservation are after all, the key aspects of being Slytherin._

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in, Miss Granger."

The girl entered the room, as Dumbledore offered the seats opposite to him, in front of the table. Crossing his arms with his elbows resting on the hard wooden table in front of him, he peered at her with a thoughtful expression.

"I suppose you have arrived with some potential information."

Dumbledore tilted his head in curiosity, waiting for Hermione to begin who seemed to be fidgeting for some reason. A part of him could not help but feel disappointed with the two teenagers who had so easily, been outwitted and convinced by him to, in a way, _betray_ their best friend. Yes, it was a fact that he was Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the Light, and the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, but it saddened him how quick the two were to _sell_ the privacy of their best friend just so that they could be recognized as doing something significant for the Order. While outwardly, it might have seemed that it was their sense of duty, but a little passive Legilimency had showed him an entirely different reality.

While Hermione Granger was very devoted to her best friend, she held a powerful attraction towards her other friend Ron Weasley, which also explained why she had taken Ronald's side during their little conflict the previous year. Apart from that, the girl's want to please her seniors was more than a little disturbing. Albus had decided that it was a mere side effect of being bullied by her own classmates during her budding years. It was a mix of the desire to please the Headmaster and follow the orders of her elders, along with the fact that Ronald himself was agreeing to do the same, that had motivated the young girl's actions. While it explained her nature, the entire thing was still a little saddening that young Harry had trust in the wrong set of people.

Ronald Weasley was an entirely different story. Why young Harry could not be friends with someone like Neville Longbottom or someone else from any other house, Albus could not fathom. While it was true that the Weasleys being staunch supporters of the Light helped, he could not help but sympathize Harry for being carried along with Ronald and his laziness. The youngest Weasley boy was perhaps the laziest person he had ever seen. A healthy bout of jealousy, an inferiority complex of the size of a dragon, and an extraordinary amount of laziness- what the young Potter had seen in Ronald was oblivious to him. A peek into Ronald's hormonal cesspool of a mind showed that being _recognized_ for something was incentive more than enough for Ronald to betray Harry's secrets. It was a good thing that the boy held a big grudge towards anything Slytherin, else, his mind was the _perfect_ kind that Tom attracted to his propaganda.

"I am waiting, Miss Granger."

"Umm, Professor, I am afraid this is the last time I am going to make a report on my best friend."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. Did the girl really have that much loyalty to Harry? It felt good to him, but he had to be sure. "Why, Miss Granger? I was very clear about how important it was that we monitor Harry. I am afraid I am quite _disappointed_ in you."

Hermione widened her eyes. "No, Professor, you have to understand. There was an oa-", she suddenly held her throat with her palms, trying to prevent the constriction rising in her throat. Instantly, Dumbledore sent her a calming charm and a langlock charm, understanding very well that she was under some kind of oath. "Miss Granger, no need to speak anything. Just nod your head in affirmation if my guess is right else shake it in denial. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded. Good.

"Now, would I be correct to guess that you have taken an oath that prevents you from revealing any kind of information about Harry Potter?"

Nod.

"Is it _only_ Harry Potter?"

Nod.

"Did someone _force_ you to take the oath?"

Shake. All right, that was denial.

"So you took it on your own accord?"

Shake. Another denial.

That's strange. She wasn't forced; she didn't do it on her own accord. That only left...

"Were you coerced into doing it? Like some kind of pact?"

Nod. _Finally!_

"Did you do this… _pact_ with Harry Potter?"

Nod.

Dumbledore smiled. It was amazing how even powerful vows held so many loopholes in them. So Miss Granger had made some kind of pact with young Harry, in return of which, she had taken up an oath not to betray his secrets to anyone.

 _Always the resourceful one, aren't you Harry?_

"Miss Granger, listen to me _very_ carefully. I am going to guess the correct reason, and say it aloud systematically. I need you to carefully understand it and nod or shake accordingly. Do you understand?"

Nod.

 _Good._

"You entered into a pact with Harry Potter."

Nod.

"And in return for something, you agreed to an oath-"

Nod.

"To not share anything about his-" Dumbledore paused intentionally, "—abilities-"

Nod. _Yes._

"With anyone."

Nod.

"And this happened when you witnessed him doing something spectacular."

Nod.

 _Just as expected._

"Was he performing a dark curse?"

Shake. _Thank Merlin!_

"Some powerful spell?"

Nod.

"Something you know about?"

Nod.

"And you know that because you read it?"

Nod.

"And saw someone performing it?"

Shake.

Okay, so young Harry was performing some powerful arcane magic, and given the fact that it was not a dark curse and something Miss Granger had read, presumably from the library books, it was some kind of Light spell.

 _Good. Perhaps something he had learned from the Black Library. No, the Blacks were famous for their dark magic. It has to be something else. Maybe Potter library? After all, he was holding the Potter lordship._

"Very well, Miss Granger. You are freed from reporting to me. Best not to invoke the wrath of the magics behind the oath. "You may go. However," he paused for a moment, "is there anything you wish to tell me? Something that you can say without trying to break the oath?" He quickly canceled the langlock charm.

"Yes, Professor."

"Very well. Go ahead."

Hermione quickly stood up. "We have begun a new secret group to teach ourselves DADA, and I am the-" and drew a little closer to him as she whispered. _"The meeting place of the Defense Association is the third room from the library on the fourth-floor corridor of Hogwarts."_

Dumbledore widened his eyes. A Fidelius? Had harry potter performed a Fidelius? It was mind-boggling. The Fidelius was one of the most powerful spells out there, and while he could perform one, the same could not be said for a fifteen-year-old. Then again, the kid had cast a corporeal Patronus at thirteen- it seemed like he had enough power, despite the bindings, available to him but even then- that would not be enough for a Fidelius. It was possible in only one case, and that was-

 _Merlin! The boy had torn through his bindings. Did that mean that the Horcrux was also free?_

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore ordered with uncharacteristic loudness, "please leave right now. I have something _very_ important to do." Hermione seemed to understand, despite the shock at his odd behavior, and stood up to leave the room.

"Thank you, Professor." She mumbled, before walking out of the office.

* * *

Dumbledore watched her go, as he instantly waved his wand to levitate his Pensieve over his desk. Placing his wand on his temples, he drew out the last memory he had with the boy close enough. The white thread dissolved into the churning waters of the Pensieve, as he dived into it.

He was back into his own office, though this time he was inside his own memory. He could see Fawkes sitting on Harry's shoulders, while Sirius sat beside him. He could see himself sitting opposite Harry, trying to make him speak about the events at the graveyard.

" **If I thought I could help you," Memory-Dumbledore said gently, "by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. However, I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened."**

 _The number of things one needs to do for the Greater good._ Dumbledore thought somberly. In hindsight, it was not the correct thing to do. After all, Harry was just a fourteen-year-old.

 _Time to check what I need to._

He did something he had not done in almost a decade- he activated his _mage sight_. It was something he had learnt from Nicholas Flamel when he was apprenticing under him. The _sight_ enabled him to see the auras of people and objects. The interesting thing was that it worked on memories just as good as in real life. He walked closer to Harry as he inspected his forehead. There, hidden by his bangs, was the familiar lightning-bolt scar. It was red and it was bleeding, but the aura from the scar seemed a lot less. Satisfied, Dumbledore raised his wand and forced himself out of the Pensieve.

 _Next one._

Another repetition occurred and Dumbledore vanished into the depths of the Pensieve. This memory was a newer one, from his only meeting with Harry face to face after he had taken over the Black lordship. He was back at the newly renovated Black Manor, watching as Harry Potter stood his ground and made Molly back off.

 **"No, he is not. I have seen this coming since long, Black. Azkaban has addled your brain. I have seen the way you talk about him; it is as if you got your old friend back. He is not James, Sirius." She screeched.**

 **"I know perfectly well who he is." Sirius snapped coldly.**

 **"No, you don't. I raised him, not you. You were away shackled up in Azkaban while I was the one-"**

 **"ENOUGH!"**

 **A huge wave of magical energy inundated all over the room as Harry's aura flared brightly. The huge grayish aura hung like a cloak all over him, as energy poured down him in waves. The pressure of the energy increased as it became distinctly uncomfortable for everyone to breathe.**

 **Harry walked down the stairs. Every step he made, the energy flowed down through him, seeping down from his skin while the aura hung to him like a cloak. "You did not raise me, Mrs. Weasley. I only spent a couple of weeks in my second year at your place. While I am grateful to you for your efforts, it does not give you any right to deny Sirius's role and his importance in my life. Sirius Black is my godfather. He is more family to me than anyone here is- including you. Do not make me choose because I will choose him. Every. Single. Time."**

Dumbledore trod closer to Harry, peering through his spectacles as he tried to look at his scar, despite the sheer brightness of the aura emitted out by the young lad. The scar had almost faded to a point of non-existence, with not even the slightest trace of dark magic emanating out of it. Dumbledore almost shed a tear in joy.

 _You remarkable boy._

By some unexplainable way, Harry Potter was not a Horcrux. His soul was finally, and solely his own. Could it be possible that he had been hit by a killing curse in the fight? He was sure that being hit by a killing curse was _not_ something one would forget, even if one had been through what Harry had been. Something else was at play. Whatever it was, one thing was clear.

 _Harry Potter had died at the hands of Lord Voldemort._

He replayed the words of the prophecy in his mind.

 _ **And the dark lord will mark him as his equal…**_

Harry has a tremendous amount of magical potential inside him, as is evident from the fact that he can cast the Fidelius. Surely, that matches him to Tom's level. The fact that a fifteen-year-old boy had a power equal to a seventy-year-old dark lord sent shudders down his spine.

 _ **But he will have power the dark lord knows not...**_

A power that Tom knows not. A couple of months ago, he would have said that it was Love. Now, he wasn't so sure… Was it his pseudo-immunity from the Unforgivables? Was it something different? Family Magic perhaps?

 _ **And either must die at the hand of the other…**_

Assuming Harry died at Voldemort's hand, and still lived. Didn't it mean that it was Voldemort's time to die next? If the horcruxes were taken care of, Tom would be gone forever. They would have died at the hands of the other, and that, he thought with a smile, paved the way for the next statement…

 _ **For neither can live while the other survives...**_

Survive… That was complicated. Harry could not live a proper life until Tom was gone for good. Tom could not live on until Harry Potter was gone for good. It made sense.

 _Finally!_

 _The boy was no longer a Horcrux. The boy was no longer a Horcrux. That meant-_

The truth hit him like a brick wall.

The boy knows that Miss Granger was spying on him. That must be why he conveniently arranged matters into an oath. That meant, Harry did not trust him at the moment.

 _I will have to gain his trust. Perhaps telling about his family- No, Sirius has already done that. I guess he is also angry with me for keeping him away from his heritage as well. The fact that I stole his best friends from him does not help matters at all._

Dumbledore sighed.

 _It is time to train him. Make him the best-damned wizard he can be. The Horcrux is gone, and now Harry can be trained. I will have to talk to Severus about it, or should I…._

A part of him could not help but want to observe what this new and improved Harry Potter could do. Maybe he would just do that for a while. However, one thing was certain. It was time that Harry Potter received an active education and…" he looked down at his wand, "A powerful weapon to fight against Tom Riddle."


	20. Chapter 20 : Seers and alliances

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _"Miss Granger," Dumbledore ordered with uncharacteristic loudness, "please leave right now. I have something very important to do."_

 _Hermione seemed to understand, despite the shock at his odd behavior, and stood up to leave the room. "Thank you, Professor." She mumbled, before walking out of the office._

* * *

"Can you arrange the meeting with your father?"

Daphne considered it. "How soon?"

"At the earliest."

"Let me see what I can do. Am I to suppose that it is related to the letter you received from the Ministry this morning?"

Harry raised his eyes. The letter that had arrived that very morning was almost, a surprise. Apparently, he was going to be held on trial around six days from now, for illegally holding a Lordship despite being underage and without legal authorization. Trust Fudge to come up with reasons as silly as this just to frame him.

"It isn't that difficult if you know what to look for. The Ministry always employs barn owls and marks them with the black lining on the wings. Easy to spot."

"I… see."

"What was it, about?"

"Something I believe I will keep to myself. I assume that you will be present during the meeting with your father?"

"If you don't want me to…" she trailed off, "otherwise, being his heir, I am in my right to be present, especially when the meeting was set up by me."

"I would rather like it if you were present."

Daphne beamed. "Careful, Potter. One might think that you have started to like my company."

"Come now, Greengrass." Harry returned jauntily, "You know me better than that."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "At least give me an idea of what to expect."

Harry lowered his voice as he neared her. "Be ready to be surprised." Daphne rolled her eyes again. Surprised- wasn't that the natural state of things when it came to Harry Potter? She simply shook her head in bemusement as she drew out her wand and took her position a few steps away from him. "Tell me Potter, have you ever considered the idea that I could teach whatever you are teaching me? Someone like Malfoy?"

Harry shrugged. "I did."

Daphne raised her eyebrows. "And you still…" she paused to reconsider her words, "are okay with it?"

Harry raised his wand and took his stance. "I believe I just have to _trust_ you in that regard. You have worked quite hard to raise neutrality in Slytherin house, and have spent an awful lot of time in my presence, enough to know _something_ about my true capabilities. I am sure you have a _good_ head on your shoulders."

 _That was a threat if I ever heard one._ Daphne mused to herself. "Of course, I wouldn't dream of sharing what you taught me, considering how many times you have hurt my butt in the process."

"Too right." Harry grinned.

 _Should I tell her that the obscurity charms I placed in the room prevent her from sharing anything that I do not want her to share?_

Harry mused for a moment, keeping the silly grin on his face as his fingers tightened around his wand.

 _Nah…_

"Let's begin then… Expelliarmus."

Daphne shook her head in bemusement as she simply threw her wand upwards for a moment, feeling the energy propelling the charm rush through her body. The feeling was… phenomenal. Normally, when a wizard cast a spell, it simply raised matter and then propelled it to do the job. A banishing charm for one propelled the air and used it to hurl someone away.

However, Potter- his spells were different. The energy behind his spell was simply so powerful that the energy was enough to push, and in this case, disarm someone of the weapon. She could feel the energy pulsing in waves, entering through her body and emerging out of it. The feeling… it was so different and left her wondering how powerful her dueling partner truly was.

It was one of the many techniques, which he had taught her. The disarming charm did its job- disarming. If the victim did not have a wand, the charm did absolutely nothing. Therefore, a good technique was to simply throw the wand up in the air and just as the charm passed off. At least that was the idea. She hurled the wand upwards as the disarming charm passed through her, ready to catch her wand back only to-

"Accio."

Her wand flew off, away from her towards him who caught it with the unerring skill of a Seeker. "Or-", He grinned, "the opponent could also summon your wand when it is up in the air."

Daphne gnashed her teeth. "You did that on purpose." She yelled out.

Harry grinned. "You know how I love to make you angry!"

"Give. Me. My. Wand. Harry. Potter." She replied sternly, punctuating every word for him.

Putting his wand back in the holster, he sent her wand into his secondary holster. "Try and get it." He waggled his eyebrows, challenging her. Daphne put her hands on her waist and stared him down in an interrogative manner.

"Give. Me. My. Wand. Right. Now."

"Come. And. Take. It." Harry imitated her.

"You are going to rue this day, Harry Potter." She snarled as she leapt towards him. Harry grinned as he dodged her. Daphne missed him and then spun around and ran behind him. Instantly, a plush couch appeared just at her feet and she tripped over and fell again, the dust covering her face now.

"Oops." Harry muttered, staring at her dust-covered face.

"I am going to kill you, Harry Potter." Daphne snarled. "I am going to kill you slowly and painfully."

"You can try!" Harry drawled as the game of chase began all over again.

* * *

 **Inside the staff room at Hogwarts…**

"Let us then begin with the reports of the fifth year students and how they are all faring this year, shall we?" Dumbledore began as he took to the chair. The professors were seated around a large, round table with every professor having a huge stack of papers in front of them, each paper describing the reports of the students they were dealing with. Apparently, some problems just had to be done the mundane way, magic or no magic.

"Abbott, Hannah!" Dumbledore muttered, as Pomona Sprout beamed at him. "Pomona, would you like to begin?"

Pomona nodded. "Miss Abbott has shown considerable improvement since the previous year in Herbology. I wouldn't be surprised if she cracked an Outstanding OWL on the subject, this year." She ended her statement. Dumbledore nodded, accepting her statement and moved ahead. "Minerva?"

"Miss Abbott has been an above average student in Transfiguration, so far. Her theory is strong but her practical leave much to be desired." Snape muttered something along the lines of 'Hufflepuff' and 'typical' but Minerva ignored that. "I cannot speak for everyone but for those who take a genuine interest in the education of their students, Miss Abbott has indeed shown considerable development considering her previous reports." Severus sneered at the snide comment about his professionalism but did not refute.

"Miss Abbott has been a wonderful student this year." Filius stated merrily.

"She has barely been acceptable, but she is better than the bunch of dunderheads sitting in my fifth year class." Severus sneered. Dumbledore sighed. Why he kept the man on campus was simply beyond him. Severus was an accomplished potions' master, and had many skills, but teaching was not one of them. If not for the fact that the man had his uses as a spy, he would have found himself unemployed a long time ago.

"Miss Abbott has been _proper_ , hem hem, I mean; she hasn't been breaking any rules recently, Headmaster." Dolores remarked.

Dumbledore sighed. This was going to be one long day.

Finally, after moving through the A's all the way through M, N, and O's, and finally it was time for..

"Potter, Harry."

Dumbledore sat a little straighter. This was exactly what he was waiting for. Apparently, the other professors also held a similar opinion, especially one Dolores Umbridge.

"Mister Potter has shown remarkable improvement in his classes. Since his regular classes were obstructed because of the Triwizard, the previous year, I had to match up his performance reports with his third year, and may I say the difference is _very_ distinct."

Dumbledore crossed his hands and supported his chin with his fingertips. "Please, expound on that, Minerva." He could see Umbridge listening very curiously to the report.

Minerva cleared her throat. 'He is usually the first to perform a spell. While he does in fact, use proper incantations, his wand movement is usually minimum, and in most cases, without any movement at all. I believe his magical intent has been developing very nicely as of late." The old Transfiguration professor looked very proud about her lion.

"Obviously, Minerva. One only hopes if this development might have been a little sooner." Dumbledore muttered, making her raise her eyebrows but he continued, "What say you, Filius?"

"I concur with Minerva. The boy has always been a good student at the practical work, and I even gave him some extra credit when he demonstrated a fully, fledged Patronus in front of me."

Snape raised his eyebrows but the real distraction came for Umbridge. "I'm sure you are exaggerating. _Children_ do not cast a fully-fledged Patronus. Perhaps he just wove a grand tale about it to you and believed it?" She continued in her sickeningly sweet tone.

"I am sure I am able to recognize a corporeal Patronus when I see one, Dolores." Flitwick returned. His tone was still jovial but there was a current of sternness hidden beneath it.

"Pardon me if I do not take your word for it. After all, I am the Defense instructor and-"

"His previous DADA reports have been nothing short of _exemplary_." Minerva shot back, glaring at Umbridge for wanting to defame one of her lions.

"Hem, Hem," Umbridge tried to get control over the conversation, "I am the Ministry-certified Defense instructor and I think that he is not even a passable student."

"Of course, let me rephrase my statement. His Defense reports from a _competent_ Defense instructor has been nothing short of exemplary. Of course, given the way he wiped the floor with you during one of the practice duels as I have heard; it is understandable why you would feel vindictive."

"You can be sure that this behavior will find its way into the notes from the office of the High Inquisitor, Minerva." Umbridge hissed.

Minerva stared at her as if she were a dragon and Umbridge were a tiny little insect. "Of course, after all, the only ability you have is to use your _mouth and hands_ to write things on paper and push them up your boss's table. The proper jobs are done by those who can actually cast some magic themselves."

"Minerva-"

"Dolores!" thundered Minerva McGonagall. "Just because you are the High Inquisitor doesn't falsify the fact that you got a dreadful in all of your owls and had to leave Hogwarts to settle for a Ministry-run school to take your NEWTS."

"ENOUGH!" Dolores shrieked as she stood up. "I am going to report all of this to the Minister. He shall know about this immediately. The standards of this school are beyond repair and it won't happen until the existing staff is gone for good." She got off her chair as she rushed out of the room.

"That went well," Dumbledore muttered, exciting some chuckles from the rest of the members. "Now back to Mister Potter's report, Pomona?"

* * *

 **That night…**

"Hey godson, everything working fine?"

"Yeah." Harry grinned, talking to his favorite godfather through the mirror. It was an untold routine between them. Every two days, Harry would call Sirius and discuss the updates. While Harry would train and report to Sirius about his training, some of his new gain of arcane knowledge, and about his new alliances with people like Greengrass; Sirius would share what he had found from his private research in the family library. The research circled around the picture of Harry's doppelganger in the ward chamber, and Sirius had been studying his grandfather's journal, trying to get some kind of link that could explain who the person was.

"Bedded any birds today?"

Harry shook his head in bemusement. Sirius seemed to be way too fixated on the idea about Harry bedding a whole harem of Hogwarts girls, one girl a day if Sirius had his way.

"No, Sirius I didn't," Harry replied bemusedly.

"What about your dueling partner? She seems to be _quite_ interested in you." Sirius urged. Harry blushed a little, as the little _wrestling_ session that he had had with Greengrass in the morning came to mind. "We are just dueling partners, nothing like that, old man."

"Old man? I will let you know that when I was your age, I had bedded half of the-" Sirius began to expound at length about his pursuits but Harry shoved his fingers into his ears, not wanting to lose his innocence by hearing his godfather's boasts. Sirius saw his godson's antics and stopped to smirk at him.

"What about your research?" Harry asked, changing the current topic. Instantly, Sirius's demeanor shifted to something, well _, serious_ , as he returned, "I got a head-on from the old man's journal and from your grandfather's journal and it all sums up to one single word."

"What is that?"

"Cassandra Trelawney."

"Any relation to our Divination professor?" Harry questioned, remembering the oddball professor he had had to deal for a year. At least the tournament had given him a year off at Divination among other things.

Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Nothing." Sirius sighed. "Sometimes I forget that you are not all that acquainted with the wizarding world and its recent history. Harry, Cassandra Trelawney was Magical Europe's most celebrated seer in the past one hundred years."

"All right. Is she alive?"

"Cannot say. Trelawney left Magical Britain almost fifteen years ago, almost around the same time when-"

"My parents were killed by Voldemort." Harry muttered, more to himself than to Sirius.

"Yes." Sirius replied, eyeing him curiously. "It was very strange, considering how she lived in Britain despite Voldemort attacking the country, and then when he was gone, she suddenly departed for good."

"Okay."

"Maybe your divination teacher can help you regarding that. She _is_ her descendant, after all." Sirius quipped.

"Okay." He mused, pausing for a moment. "You mentioned a link and that Cassandra Trelawney was a link between the picture and your grandfather. How is that?"

"Well, both your and my grandfather's journals state a single meeting between them and Trelawney around fifty years ago. And," he paused, unsure how to continue, "Apparently, neither of them met the seer ever again."

"Some kind of disagreement?" Harry mused.

"I don't know. I will start looking some more into the family records. Perhaps there might be something worth finding out about the meeting with Trelawney. My best bet is that if Trelawney _is_ alive, perhaps she could grant us a more _proper_ record of the events."

"How is this related to the picture?"

Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment. "My grandfather… well, he took up the Black lordship some _fifty_ years ago. That painting, the writing on the edge… It was my grandfather's handwriting, and since it is in the wardstone chamber I think-"

"That it was your grandfather who _put_ it there." Harry caught up.

"Very astute, godson."

Harry nodded. "So there might be some link between the seer's visit and the picture on the wall."

"Yes, that is what I think too." Sirius pronounced.

"Any news on the Prophecy?"

Sirius hmm'd and haww'd a bit before finally admitting that he was still trying to influence Mundungus to reveal the location of the Order guard. Being a fugitive, it wasn't possible for him to follow an Order member, not that the presence of Molly Weasley in the house helped matters either. "Any news from Dumbledore, yet?"

"No. The Old man has been off from sight, lately. I do not understand why, though. It's not like the hag is being any better." Harry replied bitterly. "The hag has been using something known as a blood quill on students, or at that was what I could fathom from the injuries."

Instantly, Sirius went feral. "A _blood quill_? Those are illegal to have, and what do you mean she is using them on students?"

"As far as I know, she is making them write lines." Sirius hissed in fury at that. "Harry, that woman is a monster. She has to be stopped. I know you said that you wanted nothing to do with the war and the Ministry but this, this is beyond acceptable."

Harry nodded. "I will see what I can do. Besides, the _plan_ has been working successfully so far."

"The meeting?"

"Arranged."

Sirius thought for a minute. "Very well. Inform me when you get the date and time."

"I will." Harry nodded, turning off the mirror. He pocketed the mirror as he gazed thoughtfully, holding his wand with his other hand. "Now how do I stop the hag without attracting any attention?"

* * *

"Why would you want to know about my great aunt, Harry Potter?" Sybil Trelawney looked at him through her ancient, round glasses. The way she was staring at him with her raised face, and he magnified eyes, boring deep into him, felt downright creepy.

Harry was standing at the door that led to the divination classroom in the tower, speaking to the strange professor. "I, well, it's family business really. She had had some business with my grandfather some fifty years ago, something that I am failing to understand. That is why I need to meet her in person and ask her about it." Harry explained.

"Oh." That was the only thing she had to say.

"Well," Harry urged, getting impatient, "do you know where she lives?"

The divination teacher seemed to consider his request. "Come; let's have a cup of tea." Knowing that he had no option but to concede, he agreed to her request.

"Sugar and milk?"

"Two spoons and yes." Harry answered automatically. Sybil prepared the tea while Harry wandered into the empty divination classroom. It had been ages since he had stepped there. The Triwizard tournament had given him a carte blanche to skip classes and Divination along with History of Magic had been his first choices.

"I miss having you in my class, Harry. You were never much of a seer, but you were a fascinating object."

 _Of course, one who's impeding death was the first thing you had predicted on the very first class._ Harry thought bitterly. He sat over a table while Sybil forwarded his cup of tea towards him.

"Let's have a cup of tea first." She repeated, almost mechanically.

Harry took his first sip as he felt the strangeness of the situation get to him. Here he was, sitting with the creepy divination professor, alone with her in her office, sipping tea. A month earlier, he would have laughed if anyone had told him about it. However, the oddball professor was his best pathway to Cassandra Trelawney. If that involved a cup of tea with a crazy woman, so be it.

Wanting to cut off the silence, he tried to make conversation. "So Professor, how is Madam Cassandra Trelawney like? I mean, was she also a-"

"Seer like me? Yes and No."

Harry raised his eyebrows at the swift and casual way in which Professor Trelawney had replied to him. It was so unlike her. Usually, she would talk in riddles, confusing the hell out of him. He took another sip, waiting for her to explain.

"My Grand-aunt, she was one of the most powerful seers to ever exist since the time of Morgana Le Fay and Circe. You see Harry, there are two kinds of seers—those who can _see_ the future, and those who can _divine_ it. True seers like her, have the ability to see past the confluences of time and fate and see incidents before they happen. They cannot predict anything, cannot prophesize subconsciously. Their inner eye is voluntary and whenever they want, they can peek into the past and future, and sometimes in both. Fates chosen and unchosen, lives created and discarded, and ways and choices left by remnants of time travelers who try to mess with Time, only to fall into dust every single time they do."

Harry was hanging on to her every word.

"Me, on the other hand, I can prophesize, I can use the tools available to those who study the arts of divination to divine the foreseeable future and try to shift it and get the best results out of it." She reached out to his palm and held it. "Like yours, Harry. Your fate is at a confluence, not unlike a single rock being tossed by the waves of an angry ocean. Where the rock will float to, depends upon your choices. After all, not everyone gets the touch of death twice and rides the horse of-"

Harry shook his hand out of hers, shocked at her words.

"I'm sorry!" Sybil looked confused, "Did I say anything wrong?"

"No! No!" Harry looked half-anxious and half-frightened. "Please go on..."

"Oh." Sybil looked confused. "Oh look, you have almost finished your tea. Let us finish it all and I will give you a reading. What do you say?"

Harry nodded anxiously and drunk up the entire contents of the cup in front of him, leaving the leaves behind. Sybil all but snatched the cup away and peeked into it. "Aaaah" she shrieked as she threw the cup away, which smashed into pieces as it fell on the floor.

"Is it the Grim again?" He questioned, wishing that it were.

"Grim? No, no my boy. It was something worse. Three turns and a cross, a horse of death. A horse of death! Death, rebirth and death again. I am sorry, my boy, so very sorry!"

Harry raised his eyebrow. "A horse of death?"

"Don't you see those totems of death? Can't you see them who are visible only to the dead?" Trelawney spoke in a rather harsh, calamitous tone.

"Thestrals? Yes, I can. Why my friend Luna can also-"

"The seer child, yes. A true seer, one so alike my grand aunt. Did you know she was a true seer, Harry? She could see past the confluences of time and fate and see incidents before they happen. Fates chosen and unchosen, lives created and discarded, and ways and choices left by remnants of time travelers who try to mess with Time, only to fall-," she droned on in an imperious tone.

"Professor Trelawney?" Harry yelled.

Sybil blanched. "Yes?"

"You were telling me about Cassandra Trelawney. Where she lived and all-? -"

"Of course. My grand aunt." Sybil answered. By this time, Harry was confused whether she was more than a little touched in the head or simply a divination genius.

"You will find that the two descriptions aren't too different from each other, Harry Potter." Sybil returned suddenly, making him blanch. His Occlumency was holding, and there was no way the professor had plucked the question out of his mind at that instant.

"My grand aunt left Britain to live in our family home in the outskirts of Bulgaria. However, her home is under some type of concealment charm and I do not know the place. Why do you want to meet her?"

"It's for some family business, anyway thank you for your time. I will figure out the rest myself. Thank you." He nodded briskly, as Trelawney returned with vigor, "I miss having you in my classes, Harry. You were never a seer but you were a wonderful object, one marked by death and yet protected by it, and destined to die so many times in the future and in the-cough—cough- what was I saying?"

"Nothing." Harry returned, now blanched and pale at the revelation he had just received, "thank you, thank you Professor. Good night."

"Good night Harry." The oddball professor turned back imperiously as Harry darted off from the divination tower.

* * *

 **The next evening…**

The portkey had carried Harry and Sirius directly to the lush green gardens of Greengrass manor. Walking across the tall abundance of wild grasses, the two marauders reached the doorstep and rang the bell. The door opened and a tiny little elf welcomed them home.

"Who may I say is asking?" The elf spoke in a highly cultured tone, completely unlike a certain excitable elf Harry could remember. Unlike Dobby and Kreacher, the elf was properly dressed in pristine robes and looked like a proper working staff of a family. Wondering if he should contact Dobby and make the elf learn some protocol like this one, Harry addressed the elf.

"Harry Potter and his guest, waiting for an audience with Lord Greengrass. We were expected."

"Of course, Master Potter. Lord Greengrass is waiting for you. Please come in."

Following the rather well-spoken elf into the house, Harry could not help but notice the specific way in which the Manor was decorated. The Greengrasses paid a special attention to beauty, or more precisely, natural beauty, it seemed. The garden and its various products were wonderfully used to decorate the entire manor, giving it a very aesthetic ambience. For an almost dark family as the Greengrasses were believed to be, the aroma and ambience was way too Light-oriented.

"Please wait in this room, Master Potter and visitor. Lord Greengrass will accompany you soon." The elf instantly popped away, leaving Harry and Sirius to look at each other, staring all around the room.

It was a rather circular room, with a large circular table and plentiful number of chairs drawn all around it in a rather formal fashion. Harry and Sirius sat on two adjacent chairs, as they saw a rather intimidating man enter the room, followed by his daughter.

"Lord Greengrass," Harry stood up, as did Sirius, before he nodded subtly towards his daughter. "Miss Greengrass?"

Daphne nodded in return. Cyrus took a seat as Daphne took the one next to him, seating just beside Harry. "Lord Potter, I must say that I have been greatly fascinated and interested in this meeting that you have wanted to set up all this while."

"May I introduce my godfather, Sirius Orion Black to you? He is the main reason why I asked for an oath of silence over this meeting. As you well know, my godfather has been wrongly accused and has had to spend the prime of his life in Azkaban unjustly."

"It seems like a rather large miscarriage of justice has taken place, recently."

"Yes." Harry nodded, glancing at Daphne. She nodded subtly. "

"Lord Greengrass, I assume that you know that Harry here hold the lordships of Potter and Black families?" Sirius took charge of the conversation, just as they had discussed. Harry recognized that while he had the power to pack his spells with, the guile that came with growing up with the Blacks was missing in him. Hence, Sirius was a better option for dealing with Lord Greengrass.

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. "I was told, yes."

"As you would very well know, the main strength behind Malfoy's political power is the idea that Draco will become the next Lord Black. When it becomes public that it isn't so, it will hit his base hard."

"I am listening."

"The Black seat has got five votes, the same as the Potter seat. Ten votes." Sirius continued.

"A significant amount." Cyrus agreed, taking a sip of water from a glass.

"Which would do well if it joined the neutral faction." Sirius ended, keeping a straight face.

Cyrus lost control and splurged the water all over the table. "Excuse me?"

Harry almost chuckled. Almost. He darted a glance towards Daphne, only to find said girl glaring daggers at him and Sirius for what she understood as a prank played by the two upon her father.

"If you are doing this for amusement-" Cyrus began, but Harry cut him off. "We are completely serious about this." He ignored the pun and continued, "We wish to join the neutral faction, and shift the polarity of the Wizengamot."

"Hmmm." Cyrus mused, "That is an interesting offer, I must say. However, what is the catch?"

"There isn't one." Sirius claimed.

"There is always a catch." Cyrus defended.

Harry cleared his throat. The two men looked at him. Harry stared at Daphne for a moment before he continued. "I have been called to a trial two days from now. The moron of a Minister and his hag believe that I have illegally usurped what is Draco's birthright and have been holding it to myself illegally since I am underage. I would like some support from your side, if I need it. In addition, I intend to use the opportunity to try to get Sirius free from his life as a fugitive. Do it and you will have the ancient and noble Houses of Black and Potter standing beside you."

Daphne widened her eyes. Suddenly it all began to make sense. "That was why you insulted Umbridge openly right after you showed the Black ring to Draco, isn't it? You were setting her up to put you on trial."

Harry smirked.

Daphne beamed at him. "Very Slytherin."

"What can I say? Salazar was a Black, after all." Harry returned.

"What is this about?" Cyrus asked, his eyes sparkling with interest.

"Long story." Harry grinned, "Perhaps we can share it over a meal sometime after the session is done for?"

"Agreed."


	21. Chapter 21 : The Trial

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Harry cleared his throat. The two men looked at him. Harry stared at Daphne for a moment before he continued. "I have been called to a trial two days from now. The moron of a Minister and his hag believe that I have illegally usurped what is Draco's birthright and have been holding it to myself illegally since I am underage. I would like some support from your side if I need it. In addition, I intend to use the opportunity to try to get Sirius free from his life as a fugitive. Do it and you will have the ancient and noble Houses of Black and Potter standing beside you."_

 _Daphne widened her eyes. Suddenly it all began to make sense. "That was why you insulted Umbridge openly right after you showed the Black ring to Draco, isn't it? You were setting her up to put you on trial."_

 _Harry smirked._

 _Daphne beamed at him. "Very Slytherin."_

 _"What can I say? Salazar was a Black, after all." Harry returned._

 _"What is this about?" Cyrus asked, his eyes sparkling with interest._

 _"Long story." Harry grinned, "Perhaps we can share it over a meal sometime after the session is done for?"_

 _"Agreed."_

* * *

 **The night before the day of the Trial…**

"Come in, Harry."

Harry Potter turned the knob and entered the Headmaster's office. This was the first time he was meeting the Headmaster face to face after the incident at Black Manor when he had decided to clean house the entire thing. He knew that since Dumbledore was not the Chief Warlock anymore, he did not have any power at the Wizengamot at the moment if that was what their upcoming conversation was about to be. He stood in the circular office, and for a moment, felt way too nostalgic. There was Fawkes sitting on his perch just like always, and there was the large sprawling table beside the bookshelves with the Sorting Hat sitting on the uppermost shelf.

"All to your liking, my boy?"

Harry looked at the Headmaster. Therefore, the man was not going out of his way to avoid his direct gaze. Briefly, he wondered why the headmaster of all people would be avoiding his gaze. According to Sirius, Albus Dumbledore was an accomplished Occlumens and Legilimens himself.

"I received your note."

Dumbledore mentally sighed as he observed the cold attitude of the boy. Not surprising, really. After all, he was responsible for many bad things that had happened to the boy. While he would have liked to have a direct talk about those issues and solve them, this was not the time for it. For now, there were greater things at hand.

"I assume you have made good use of the leave you sought from Minerva for yesterday."

"Yes."

"And I suppose you will need another to attend to your trial, tomorrow."

"I am quite sure that the Ministry will be forcing their hand to make you grant my leave so that I can attend the trial tomorrow, Headmaster."

"Yes, I am afraid Cornelius is being too stubborn over such a delicate matter. In hindsight, perhaps landing the news about Tom on him like that was a fool's errand, after all."

"Hindsight is an amazing thing, Headmaster, but please get to the point. I have a trial to prepare and I need my rest. Surely you will agree."

"Of course, my boy." He noticed the slight twitching of the boy's fingers. Harry had a lot of anger hidden deep inside, despite the poker face on the front. A part of him could not help but be fascinated by the rapid progress the young man had demonstrated when it came to Occlumency. Even without using a passive scan, he was assured that the boy had powerful shields up in his mind. Perhaps he did need to have a direct talk with the boy.

Later. He assured himself.

"I have been the Chief Warlock for almost forty years, and that means a lot of political acumen under my belt." Dumbledore began.

"No offense, Headmaster, but that political acumen of yours could not stop a moron and his hag from throwing you right into the dump."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "You are right, but what I meant is that I could be of some help if you wanted."

"You have helped me enough, and I can't help but reject another helping hand. I dare say I am still trying to pick myself up after you _helped_ me the previous time."

Dumbledore winced. "I suppose you are well-prepared for the trial, tomorrow."

Harry looked up at him in the eye. "I am."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. Worse comes to worst, I can be your defense if you let me."

Harry just stared blankly at him, not letting his anger at the old man show. While he wanted to do nothing better than whip his wand up and fire a powerful hex at the man, he simply pursed his lips and stared at him silently. "If you are done, I would like to go back to my dorm."

"Of course, just one question, my boy, if you allow me."

Harry paused.

Nod.

"Has your scar been paining lately? If at all?"

Harry considered it. "No, Headmaster. It does not. If that is all-? -"

"Of course, my best wishes for your trial tomorrow."

Harry nodded and stepped out of the office, as he closed the door. Dumbledore watched him go as he whispered, "Hope you have it under control, Harry."

* * *

 **The next day…**

The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of him, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures, talking in low voices. On closer look, there were three rows of benches, with the ones at the top seemingly made of gold. A shadow hung like a pallor over the people who sat there. The second tier had all kinds of important-looking people, reporters, and other officials sitting. The first or perhaps, the base-tier as it should be called, had the Minister sitting, with other prestigious seats like those of the Chief Warlock and the Head of the DMLE, along with other ministry officials. There in the center was an iron chair, with shackles lying all around it.

There was a loud knock on the door.

"Enter!" Fudge replied pompously, knowing that the criminal boy was standing outside, awaiting his judgment to begin. He sat comfortably on his seat as a large smirk floated on his face, ready to belittle the boy and make him flustered. He was the Minister of Magic, after all, and the boy would finally see that he had bitten off more than he could chew. Lucius had informed him about the boy, how the reports from the school said that Harry Potter had a muggle upbringing, and had no idea about the rules, duties, powers, and customs of the Legislature. He was eager for the fifteen-year-old student, wearing muggle robes, to enter into the courtroom, looking all confused and intimidated.

Only if that were to happen.

The person that entered wore expensive, pristine robes of the richest acromantula-silk, with a thin, sturdy dragonhide armor for protection. He wore a billowing cloak with a pair of dragon-hide boots. The two signet rings of the Families of Potter and Black shone with their entire splendor in his right hand, as Harry Potter stalked into the 'Courtroom Ten' of the Wizengamot. This was not what Fudge had expected. Apparently, the boy had got himself some fancy dress robes for the occasion. Never mind. He was sure it would not matter.

"You are late."

Harry looked up at the pompous moron smirking widely at him from his seat; obviously hoping to get him framed and sent to Azkaban just like Sirius had been. He tilted his head curiously and drawled out. "Am I?"

"Yes." Fudge could not stop his excitement from escaping his words. "You were supposed to report around half an hour ago. You think you are above the Wizengamot, don't you _boy_?"

"Well," Harry drawled, "it seems that the Ministry failed to send a notification on time. Not surprising, since the _lack of timely action_ is something the Ministry is actually _competent_ in. Don't you think, _Cornelius?"_

"I am the Minister of Magic, and you will address me with respect." Fudge responded pompously, the irritation at the boy's casual insult getting to him.

"And you will address me as Lord Black, as is my proper position." Harry deadpanned, "Unless of course, you are willing to commit a serious faux pas by ignoring the traditions of the Ancient and Noble Houses, and considering that I hold two lordships from the Ancient families, it will be two faux passes. Go on _Cornelius,_ I dare you."

"Hem hem," the hated hag distracted him. "We are losing important time. Aurors, "she ordered in a shrill voice, "get the convict on the chair and get it started." Instantly, the two Aurors standing in the shadows- Proudfoot and Dawlish quickly strode towards Harry.

"This is the second time you have committed another faux pas, Fudge," Harry yelled suddenly. "As far as the letter, I have been called to testify if I am holding the Black Lordship illegally. Since I am the Lord of Black unless proved otherwise, I am not going to be forced and demeaned by sitting on that chair."

"Lord Black is right." Everyone looked up at Lord Greengrass, who was now visible, standing from his seat on the top tier. The Aurors looked confused and then stepped back. Umbridge glared angrily and yelled, "Dementors, force this unruly boy on the chair."

Harry glared at the hag as a solid, corporeal Patronus manifested beside him. The huge thestral stood regally beside him, exciting whispers all around him among the spectators. A wandlessly conjured, corporeal Patronus… All sorts of whispers rose among the crowd. "Defend me," Harry ordered loudly. The thestral neighed and waved his mighty wings towards the Dementors who moved back into the shadows, afraid to draw any closer to the dazzling creature.

"As impressive as the display was, Mister Potter, please keep yourself from demonstrating magic inside these hallowed halls. Senior Undersecretary Umbridge, please refrain from making absurd statements and stay quiet." Ordered the stern voice of none other than Amelia Bones, the Head of the DMLE.

"Of course, Madam Bones, after all, it only manifested to protect me." Harry offered, as the thestral vanished out of existence, still leaving a warm feeling inside the courtroom.

"Now that we have got that out of the system," Fudge began indulgently, "let us begin."

Harry nodded.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twentieth of October," said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy Weasley, who was sitting beside him, began taking notes at once, "into offenses committed under the Decree for Fraud under Corporal Lordship Act and Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey." He paused for a moment and then continued, "Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley."

"Do you have a defense, Mister Potter?"

"The accused wishes to defend himself." Harry returned in clear tones.

Another set of whispers pervaded the body. Cornelius grinned as he stood up. "You are underage; hence you are not legible to-"

"How much of a moron are you, Fudge? Did that Minister seat swallow your brain and replace it with your arse?" Harry countered sarcastically, as he raised his right hand, and the Black ring shone brightly. "I am Lord Black, and hence, completely in my right to represent myself." The anger in him was easily distinct, what with the way his eyes were pulsing brightly. He turned to Madam Bones, "I hope there is no legal problem in me defending myself?"

"None, Mister Potter," Amelia replied if a bit frostily.

"Yes, well," Fudge began, stammering a bit at the unexpected change of circumstances. The boy was being very difficult. "Let us begin. You are accused of illegally claiming a Lordship despite being underage, and not to mention when you have no right to it."

"Yes."

"How do you plead?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course, I am not guilty, and that this farce of a trial is a waste of people's important time."

Fudge cleared his throat to ignore the boy's insulting words and took out a wad of notes, shuffling through them until he got the one he was searching for. "This is in accordance filed by Lord Lucius Malfoy, stating that his son and heir Draco Malfoy, is the heir and next in line to the Black family when he comes of age. You, Harry James Potter, are accused of line-theft. How do you plead?"

"Well, it is obvious, isn't it? This farce is ridiculous. Lucius Malfoy is in no position to make that statement."

"Be in your bonnet, Potter!" A cool voice resounded from the top tier. Lucius Malfoy, wearing expensive robes and holding his cane in one hand, stood up and addressed. "My son is the last of the Blacks and is the legal heir of the family. You have usurped his position and I demand you to return the ring to the rightful heir and plead forgiveness."

Harry rolled his eyes. "And you are, of course, the expert on the affairs of the Black family, right?"

"Yes." Lucius replied curtly, "I hold the Black seat on the Wizengamot in proxy to my son, who is the rightful heir to the Black lordship."

"And how?"

"My wife is Narcissa Malfoy, daughter of Cygnus Black. He is the only male left who carries Black blood." Lucius defended.

"Shows what you know," Harry muttered. "My grandmother was Dorea Andromeda Black, sister of Arcturus Sirius Black, the previous Lord Black. My sworn godfather and adopted father is Sirius Orion, who is the blood heir of Black."

"Sirius Black is an escaped convict." Lucius snarled. "he is in no position to be the Lord."

"I think you should recheck your information sources. But we are dancing around the point. You say that your son is the rightful heir." He paused for a dramatic effect, "Then can your son do this?" He challenged, raising his fist as he called out, "Familius magicus ostendere," as a large black ethereal adder manifested beside him. _"Kill anyone to attacks me."_ He stated loudly in Parseltongue, sending shivers down everyone's spine.

"Dark magic in the heart of the Ministry?" Dolores Umbridge yelled loudly, standing up from her seat. "I will see you in Azkaban for that."

"I was demonstrating my _family_ magic, Dolores. Of course, someone like you would understand family magic even if it hit you in the face."

"Parseltongue is Slytherin Magic." Lucius began, but he was cut off quickly. "Shows what you know. Parseltongue is a family trait among the Black family, something an offshoot like you can never comprehend."

"You dare-"

"Yes, I dare." Harry yelled, "I am tired of this farce of a trial. I hold the Black signet ring, I hold power over the Black family totem and I have the blood and the magic to call the Black Magic as my own. If Magic supports me, who are you to say any different?"

"You do not have Black blood in you, you are a Potter." Fudge called out.

"And you are an overgrown monkey but we have already established that. Now shut up." Harry turned towards Malfoy who just glared at him. Harry continued, "I suppose I am in my rights to call you responsible for taking advantage of the Black seat. Lucius Malfoy, I, Harry James Potter, the Lord of Black, call you a cheater and accuse you of line theft. As Lord of Black, I cast Draco Lucius Malfoy forever from the family. May the line of Malfoy end with the death of Draco Malfoy."

"You dare-" Lucius hissed angrily. Harry turned away from him and addressed the session. "Now that the annoyance is done with, do I need to supply any more proof that I am indeed, the Lord Black?"

Fudge tried to reclaim his control and yelled out, "You are underage. You cannot be Lord Black."

Harry shook his head in frustration. "Remember the Triwizard? You and your Ministry saddled me with a tournament that was only for adults. That changed my status to being an adult. Moreover, this trial, in front of the whole Wizengamot, is for adults. You cannot charge me for being an adult and then try me as one." Fudge stammered but could not get anything to say.

"I think we have wasted enough time. All those who think Mister Potter is guilty of fraud?" Madam Bones began urgently. Only three hands rose up. Fudge, Umbridge, and Malfoy.

"All those who deem him innocent?"

Every single hand apart from the three rose in the air.

Amelia banged the hammer. "You are free of the accusations." She gave a filthy look at Fudge. "Please bring on the next order of business."

Fudge scrambled hurriedly over his notes as he began his next point. "The next point is the accusation against Harry James Potter, for the death of one Quirinus Quirrel in 1992. How does the defendant plead?"

"Self-defense," Harry replied in a bored tone. While he guessed that Fudge had collected dirt on him, he did not think that the death of Quirrel would be raised here in public. However, an idea germinated inside his mind as he grinned.

 _This is going to be fun._

"The accused cannot defend himself in cases of murder. Unless you have a defense ready, we will move over with the judgment." Fudge smiled nastily at him. Harry mentally scowled. Trust Fudge to use a technicality against him. He knew he should have prepared against it.

"I have no attorney to fight this for me. I was not informed." He stated coldly.

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault. You are an adult, and expect to be treated as one." Fudge smiled evilly. "The court's proceedings cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's conveniences. Since the accused does not have a defense, we will just have-"

"Defense for the accused, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." said a quiet voice from behind Harry, who turned his head so fast he almost cracked his neck. Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Harry and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose.

The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome.

Harry felt an opposite set of emotions inside his heart. On one side, he wanted nothing to do with the old man, while on the other; the old man was his chance to fight out of the technicality.

"Ah," said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. "Dumbledore. Yes. You — err — got our — err — message of the time and —err — place of the hearing, then?" Dumbledore smiled at him cheerfully and replied, "I am afraid not, Cornelius. Just a little friendly with the barmen at Hogsmeade. You know them and their incredible ability to chatter."

"Yes — well — I suppose we'll need another chair — I —Weasley, could you —?"

"Not to worry, not to worry," said Dumbledore pleasantly; he took out his wand, gave it a little flick, and a squashy chintz armchair appeared out of nowhere next to Harry. Dumbledore sat down, put the tips of his long fingers together, and looked at Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest. The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly; only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down.

"Yes," said Fudge again, shuffling his notes. "Well, then. So. The charges. Yes." He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read, "The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, caused the death of one Quirinus Quirrell, who was the then Defense against the dark arts professor at Hogwarts."

"As I stated earlier, it was in self-defense," Harry stated.

"Which is unbelievable, given your track record. Demonstration of Parselto- well we have been through that bit," Fudge backtracked quickly. "What does the defense have to say against the accusation?"

"Professor Quirrel was possessed by Voldemort-" Harry began but Fudge cut him off. "A likely well-rehearsed story, since we well know that the certain dark wizard in question is, in fact, dead and not alive as some people have had to say-"

"Cornelius, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, I can attest to the fact that Professor Quirrel was in fact, possessed by a wraith of Lord Voldemort." Some people shrieked among the audience, while the reporters could be seen scribbling quickly into their notepads.

"That is not possible- the dark lord is dead and-"

"I never said he was alive. I said that it was _his wraith,_ which had possessed Quirinus. I hope you are not going to start about how wraiths do not exist since then I will have to personally drag you to Hogwarts to introduce you to the sixteen wraiths that currently reside inside the castle." Dumbledore replied cheerily.

Fudge stayed silent.

"Allow me to refresh everyone's memories regarding the dark lord." Dumbledore began informatively. "On October 31, 1981, there was the dark lord's cloak that was found fallen on the floor, and it was in tatters. There was no blood on the floor, nor anybody except Lily Potter and baby Harry in the crib. Since no one ever heard from the dark lord, the idea that the dark lord was dead became accepted as a fact."

"A fact that you are trying to hide under your lies." Fudge replied pompously.

"We will come to that point, later." Dumbledore smiled as he fixed him with a cold stare. Fudge swallowed but said nothing. "As Headmaster of Hogwarts, I am testifying that Harry Potter was indeed attacked in by Quirinus Quirrell and acted in self-defense. How he destroyed Quirinus Quirrel is not certain, but I believe a certain ancient magic was invoked."

"And would you testify that under Veritaserum?" Fudge pressed.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered simply. Fudge stared at him for a moment, before finally giving out and sighed. He realized that the game was over, since there was no way he could get Potter sent to prison. Dejected, he raised his voice, "All those who vote him as guilty?"

Not one hand rose in the air.

Fudge looked disappointed, but he got up. "Very well, Harry James Potter, you are free to go."

Harry looked at him and gave him a seething glare. Then, he turned and looked at the people from the third tier. "I had expected the esteemed Ancient families to stand up for one of their own, but it seems I should have expected this coming. After all, it is almost a regular occurrence for a Black heir to be treated unjustly by the fellow Ancient families."

"Whatever do you mean?" Tiberius Odgen stood up and questioned.

"Sirius Orion Black. The original blood heir of the Black family. He was carted off to Azkaban without a trial."

"What farce is this?" Sebastian Nott stood up.

"The farce, Lord Nott," Harry stated simply, "is that Sirius Orion Black, the true heir-apparent for the Black family, was carted off to Azkaban without a trial."

"Is this true?" Lord Greengrass looked towards Fudge questioningly. Fudge squirmed in his seat before he croaked, "I do not understand how this is important for this trial-"

"It is important for the Ancient and Noble families," countered Augusta Longbottom, who was now visible from the shadows. Fudge squirmed a little under her stern gaze before he turned to Amelia and replied, "Amelia, please fetch for the trial transcript for Sirius Orion Black."

Amelia who had already looked into the matter when Black had escaped from Azkaban, and looked back at Fudge. "There isn't one. Black was never given a trial, I tried to tell you but you put it off, citing it as incorrect information."

Fudge gave the look of a trapped animal and tried to fight out. "I did not know anything about it, but it doesn't matter. If he did not receive a trial, I am sentencing him now. Send him to Azkaban and administer the Dementor's kiss on him." He continued indignantly.

"I oppose," Cyrus Greengrass stood up. "A blood heir was illegally imprisoned for over twelve years. I demand that the man be freed unconditionally, accused or not."

"I am sorry, Lord Greengrass," Umbridge tried, "that is not posse-"

"Madam Umbridge," Harry snapped, "Please, shut up," raising the irate witch's ire. He looked up and addressed the audience. "As Lord Black and Lord Potter, I implore the Ancient Houses to stand and support me, and help free Sirius Orion Black under the decree of Corporal Lordship act, as our esteemed Minister stated at the start of the session."

A flurry of whispers pervaded the entire courtroom and Lord Greengrass stood up. "I speak on the behalf of the neutral faction, and I believe that Sirius Black should be given a DMLE trial, at least for formality's sake, since it is obvious that Lord Potter doesn't believe Sirius Black guilty of betraying his parents to the dark lord."

"On behalf of the Light faction, I second the motion." Augusta Longbottom concurred.

"Very well," Amelia stood up. "Let a notice be released. The Dementor's kiss on sight order is revoked and Sirius Black is summoned to a trial at DMLE Headquarters for his official trail regarding the death of twelve muggles and Peter Pettigrew. He has twelve days to report to the DMLE. Case dismissed." She banged the gravel with the hammer.

"How about now?"

Every single eye turned towards the entrance, as a cloak billowed at the entrance, as Sirius Orion Black, you-know-who's right-hand man and the killer of Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles, lifted off the invisibility cloak off himself. Every eye stared at him, while Harry Potter looked at him, amused.

Sirius tried to gauge everyone's reaction and finding the stupefied faces staring at him but found himself at a loss.

"Umm… Taa daa?"


	22. Chapter 22 : For the Family

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _"You are late."_

 _Harry looked up at the pompous moron smirking widely at him from his seat; obviously hoping, to get him framed and sent to Azkaban just as Sirius had been. He tilted his head curiously and drawled out. "Am I?"_

 _"Yes." Fudge could not stop his excitement from escaping his words. "You were supposed to report around half an hour ago. You think you are above the Wizengamot, don't you boy?"_

 _"Well," Harry drawled, "it seems that the Ministry failed to send a notification on time. Not surprising, since the lack of timely action is something the Ministry is actually competent in. Don't you think, Cornelius?"_

* * *

Daphne watched the ongoing trial sitting next to her father in the shadows. The heir apparent of Ancient and Noble families had the right to be present in the court sessions if only to observe and learn how the protocols and procedures work. Daphne had previously attended some five other sessions, though none of them had acquired even half of the interest as this one.

Perhaps the reason could be summed up in the fact that the result of this session would have significant impacts upon her family and herself.

She looked at the center of the raised platform, where a young Mister Harry Potter was loud mouthing off the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. While she knew that a show of power was necessary to gain control over the motion, but she could not help but wonder where her Slytherin dueling-partner had vanished off, leaving behind the immature specimen who was mouthing insults towards Fudge and his undersecretary.

"Well," Potter drawled, "it seems that the Ministry failed to send a notification on time. Not surprising, since the _lack of timely action_ is something the Ministry is actually _competent_ in. Don't you think, _Cornelius?"_

"I am the Minister of Magic, and you will address me with respect." Fudge responded pompously, the irritation at the boy's casual insult getting to him.

"And you will address me as Lord Black, as is my proper position." Potter deadpanned, "Unless of course, you are willing to commit a serious faux pas by ignoring the traditions of the Ancient and Noble Houses, and considering that I hold two lordships from the Ancient families, it will be two faux passes. Go on _Cornelius,_ I dare you."

"What is he _doing_ father? This is not him." She whispered. "Something is wrong. He is usually calm and composed, not this boisterous brat who is insulting anyone and everyone standing against him."

Cyrus Greengrass leaned towards his daughter and whispered gravely, "Honestly, I was thinking the same. While the initial entrance is sure to turn a lot of heads, that loud behavior is going to turn off some of them. If he thinks that Gryffindorish behavior will help him, he is severely mistaken."

Daphne almost chided her father for speaking negatively about Gryffindor, after all, he was her ancestor and- she cut off the thought and looked back at the _show._

 _What is wrong with you, Potter? The Potter I knew would never behave that childishly in public._

"This is the second time you have committed another faux pas, Fudge," Potter yelled suddenly. "As far as the letter, I have been called to testify if I am holding the Black Lordship illegally. Since I am the Lord of Black unless proved otherwise, I am not going to be forced and demeaned by sitting on that chair."

Daphne wished that the floor would break and just swallow her whole. To think that Potter could be this… she couldn't help herself, this _brash Gryffindor_ , was unfathomable. To reveal his lordship was one thing, but to act like this… either she didn't know Potter at all, or something else was going on. Something she resolved to find out.

"Enough," Cyrus whispered angrily. "I will have to intervene and end the discussion; else he is going to create a very bad image of himself." As soon as he stood up, the magic pervading the third tier dissipated the shadow obscuring him and revealed his face to the rest of the audience.

"Lord Black is right." He hoped that his presence would make Potter remember what he was truly here for, and make him understand that he was doing things the wrong way. Unfortunately, Fate had other ideas.

Dolores Umbridge, the Minister's senior undersecretary seemed to take Potter's attitude as a major offense and glared angrily, as she yelled, "Dementors, force this unruly boy on the chair."

 _Crap._

A seven-feet tall, dazzlingly bright, thestral Patronus materialized beside the boy. However, that wasn't the only thing that was shocking. The boy had not even lifted a finger, forget to wave his wand, but then that meant-

A wandless, corporeal Patronus.

 _Damn._

Cyrus slowly receded into his seat as he whispered to his daughter, his voice filled with awe. "He can cast a corporeal Patronus, _wandlessly_?"

"I do believe that I mentioned that in my letters." Daphne snapped, her eyes gazing at the ethereal creature, and at its master who was, from what it seemed, gloating his skills in public.

 _Something is very wrong. Very, very wrong._

"Father, could I _talk_ to Potter for a while? I need to put some sense into him."

Cyrus simply sat unmovingly, and after a pause, answered her, "The way things are going, you would either have all the time in the world to drive some sense into him or else none. This is going to become a do-or-die case. I know Fudge. Potter has insulted him and pushed him way too far, and now he will begin to fight back with anything and everything he has got."

Daphne could not be sure what to think of that.

"As impressive as the display was, Mister Potter, please keep yourself from demonstrating magic inside these hallowed halls. Senior Undersecretary Umbridge, please refrain from making absurd statements and stay quiet." Ordered the stern voice of none other than Amelia Bones, the Head of the DMLE.

"Of course, Madam Bones, after all, it only manifested to protect me." Potter offered, as the thestral vanished out of existence, still leaving a warm feeling inside the courtroom.

 _Of course, there was nothing about proving your superiority in that move._ Daphne thought sourly.

"Now that we have got that out of the system," Fudge began indulgently, "let us begin."

 _Only if…_

"Do you have a defense, Mister Potter?" Madam Bones offered. Now there was a 'true' neutral. Madam Bones, despite the fact that her House represented the Light faction, was remarkably neutral in her dealings. Daphne hoped that Potter would not go ahead and insult the _most sensible_ member in the ministry.

"The accused wishes to defend himself." Harry returned in clear tones.

 _So far so good._

Cornelius Fudge grinned as he stood up. "You are underage; hence you are not legible to-"

"How much of a moron are you, Fudge? Did that Minister seat swallow your brain and replace it with your arse?" Potter countered sarcastically, as he raised his right hand, and the Black ring shone brightly. "I am Lord Black, and hence, completely in my right to represent myself." The anger in him was easily distinct, what with the way his eyes were pulsing brightly. He turned to Madam Bones, "I hope there is no legal problem in me defending myself?"

"None, Mister Potter," Amelia replied if a bit frostily.

 _Great! He just had to go ahead and irritate Bones as well. Way to go, Potter!_ Daphne thought sarcastically. She shook her head in frustration. A part of her could not help but feel that being with Potter in public would be harmful to her reputation, but another part of her could not help but feel worried about the sudden changes in him. This wasn't the charismatic person, who had her on her toes during training. This wasn't the person, who held to his secrets dearly and played his cards close to the chest.

 _What is wrong with you, Potter?_

Her mind went back to a conversation she had had with her father the previous day.

" **Daphne, there is something I need to discuss with you," Cyrus replied softly, relaxing beside his daughter on the couch. Daphne raised her eyebrows. Her father had come to her room instead of calling her to his Study. He was willing to let her be completely comfortable, while he discussed something important with her. Everything was telling her that this discussion was going to be very, very important.**

" **What is it, Father?"**

" **How well do you know, Potter?"**

 **Daphne considered the statement. She had played with words and diplomacy since she was eight. For some reason, either her father was being too blatant with her, or he was trying to fish out certain information.**

" **In what sense?"**

 **Cyrus looked amused. "I mean, as a person. He is teaching you, so I expect he must share something about himself with you too. I just want to know what his ideas and his motivations are."**

 **Daphne considered his question. How well did she know Potter? She glanced at her father who was obviously waiting for an answer. "Potter… Potter is different. He is powerful, but I have already mentioned that to you. He is a good teacher, despite his annoying ways and his blasted ability to get on my nerves…," she added with a frown.**

 **Cyrus raised his eyebrows. "My, my, so you did find a boy who has the ability to get on your nerves. I don't know if I should be impressed with him or feel sorry for him."**

 **Daphne blushed at her father's implication but she controlled her facial expressions quickly. "Nothing like that, Dad." She added quickly.**

" **Okay, you shift from Father to Dad in the middle of a serious discussion. Potter seems to indeed, get on your nerves, enough to divert you." He commented shrewdly, causing her to roll her eyes. His smile suddenly vaporized as his face turned more serious. "You remember our discussion before you left for Hogwarts?"**

 **Daphne nodded.**

" **I have decided to make some changes, but I want your consent before I do so."**

" **Is this because of the potential Potter-Black influx into our alliance?" Daphne asked, and her father nodded. "I thought so."**

" **If Potter-Black joins us, it will strengthen our block strength significantly. Besides, we can cash the fame of the Boy-who-lived, especially if** _ **your boy**_ **can find it in himself to defeat the dark lord."**

 **Daphne rolled her eyes. "He is not** _ **my boy**_ **."**

" **He might as well be," Cyrus winked, "-given how much time you spend with him."**

" **Please just get to the point." Daphne returned primly, pursing her lips. Cyrus guffawed and continued. "As I was saying if Potter-Black joins the neutral faction, my little venture with Astoria will be next to useless. Now you on the other hand-"**

" **You want me to become actively involved with him." Daphne surmised.**

 **Cyrus sighed. "Actually, it is a little more than that. The rest of the neutral families will want some assurance more than the influx of Potter-Black into our faction, especially since it will attract the attention of the dark lord over our faction. People wouldn't want to be in our block unless they have an assurance that Potter-Black will come to their aid." He paused, "this might be the biggest venture and the biggest risk I am about to take."**

 **Daphne nodded slowly, realizing the true scheme of things. "What do you want me to do?"**

 **Cyrus held her shoulders, and pressed them comfortably, as he continued, "The return of the dark lord, is going to bring more public attention to Potter, well more than he already has anyway. If you are staying around him, sooner or later you will be spotted with him."**

" **And?"**

" **I want you to betroth yourself to him."**

 **Daphne widened her eyes. "You are serious."**

 **Cyrus got up and walked towards the open window. "Daphne, you know it very well that sooner or later, you will have to marry some pureblood scion to continue the family name. You have lived at Hogwarts for four years now. Do you think you would prefer to marry someone else?"**

 **Daphne shook her head. It actually made a lot of sense. She had always been enthralled by power, and Potter had it in spades. Besides, beneath all of his theatrics, it was a fact that he had this… a strange thing about him that kept her on her toes every single time. Ever since they had begun their sessions, she had found herself looking forward to them more than the school classes. Could she live her life with him? Frankly, she was attracted to Potter, but there was no love between them. Sure, Potter had moved forward from treating her like scum to a friend, and she had changed her initial perception about him, but marriage…?**

" **What do you think, Daphne?" Cyrus stressed.**

" **Can I," she looked at him hopefully, "-can I think about it?"**

 **Cyrus nodded understandably. "Of course, my dear, take your time. Besides, even if you decide to go forward with this arrangement, there is the difficulty of convincing Potter to actually agree with it in the first place."**

" **I- I understand."**

" **Good. Did he tell you anything about his plans for the trial?"**

 **Daphne shook her head. "No, he said that he and Black had planned it all out."**

 **Cyrus just sighed. "Think about it. You can answer me after the trial."**

 **Daphne just stared at him.**

"Daphne? Daphne?"

Her father's voice shook her out of her reveries. "Yes, father?"

Cyrus looked at her worriedly. "Is everything alright?"

Daphne smiled half-heartedly. "Just thinking, Father."

"About our discussion?"

She nodded.

"Given how Potter is behaving, I can't help but agree with your fears, but the addition of the Potter-Black alliance-" he left the words unfinished.

"I know." She replied as she looked down at the happenings below.

"Sirius Black is an escaped convict." Lucius Malfoy snarled. "He is in no position to be the Lord."

"I think you should recheck your information sources, but we are dancing around the point. You say that your son is the rightful heir." Potter paused for a dramatic effect, "Then can your son do this?" He challenged, raising his fist as he called out, "Familius magicus ostendere," as a large black ethereal adder manifested beside him. _"Kill anyone to attacks me."_ He stated loudly in Parseltongue, sending shivers down everyone's spine.

"Dark magic in the heart of the Ministry?" Dolores Umbridge yelled loudly, standing up from her seat. "I will see you in Azkaban for that."

"I was demonstrating my _family_ magic, Dolores. Of course, someone like you would understand family magic even if it hit you in the face."

"Daphne, have you ever been to this muggle game called _Table Tennis_?" Cyrus asked her.

"No. Why would you ask me that?" She questioned, narrowing her eyes at the odd question.

"Well it like this- they have two players standing on either side of a long table and they hold thin bats. Not like the beater bats but more thinner, though no less sturdier-" Daphne raised her eyebrows as she listened to her father explaining her _Table tennis_ in the middle of a Wizengamot session- "and they have this tiny white ball, not much different from a snitch except that it isn't golden and cannot fly-" he was even making animated hand movements to describe, Daphne observed. "So the two players strike the ball towards each other and if one misses, the other gains a point."

"Oh-kay!" Daphne drawled, not understanding where her father was going with this.

"Well, I can't help but sympathize with the tennis ball, since our fate is not much different from it." Cyrus gushed. "Potter is behaving bluntly one moment, and the next, he is rising up and doing something extraordinary. It is all becoming one giant roller-coaster."

Daphne couldn't help but agree with her father.

"You do not have Black blood in you, you are a Potter." Fudge called out.

"And you are an overgrown monkey but we have already established that. Now shut up." Potter turned towards Malfoy who just glared at him. Harry continued, "I suppose I am in my rights to call you responsible for taking advantage of the Black seat. Lucius Malfoy, I Harry James Potter, the Lord of Black, call you a cheater and accuse you of line theft. As Lord of Black, I cast Draco Lucius Malfoy forever from the family. May the line of Malfoy end with the death of Draco Malfoy."

"And…. There goes my last chance of having a deal with Lucius Malfoy down the drain." Cyrus whispered to himself with a long-suffering sigh. Looking towards Daphne, he asked, "Are you sure Potter and Black weren't _actually joking_ when they said that they wanted to be in alliance with us?"

"I don't- I don't know," Daphne muttered.

"Remember the Triwizard?" Potter was explaining, "You and your Ministry saddled me with a tournament that was only for adults. That changed my status to being an adult. Moreover, this trial, in front of the whole Wizengamot, is for adults. You cannot charge me for being an adult and then try me as one." Fudge stammered but could not get anything to say.

"I think we have wasted enough time. All those who think Mister Potter is guilty of fraud?" Madam Bones began urgently. Only three hands rose up. Fudge, Umbridge, and Malfoy.

"All those who deem him innocent?"

Cyrus rose his hand, as did everyone else, except the obvious.

 _Finally._ Daphne thought with elation.

"We are done, right?" She looked at her father. "I want to go home."

Cyrus looked at her and sighed. "You cannot leave while the session is in progress." Daphne shook her head in annoyance.

"The next point is the accusation against Harry James Potter, for the death of one Quirinus Quirrel in 1992. How does the defendant plead?" Fudge was looking like he was about to have his dinner and that Potter was a delicious dish waiting to be eaten.

Cyrus turned his head so quickly that it almost strained at the neck. "Potter was involved in the death of Quirrell? What does that boy actually _do_ in school?"

"Honestly? I am wondering the same."

"He didn't share it?" he pressed.

"Potter is not known for sharing his secrets." She muttered.

"Well doesn't seem like it, in this case." Cyrus returned softly.

Daphne did not reply.

"The accused cannot defend himself in cases of murder. Unless you have a defense ready, we will move over with the judgment." Fudge smiled nastily at the boy who had offered to defend himself.

"This is going to be a problem. Fudge is grasping for straws. He is quite an annoyance when he does that. Unless the boy has a defendant, he will be sentenced directly by vote."

"But that's not-" Daphne refuted.

"It is the law, and Fudge knows it too well to take the advantage when he sees one."

Daphne grit her teeth.

"I have no attorney to fight this for me. I was not informed." Potter stated coldly.

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault. You are an adult, and expect to be treated as one." Fudge smiled evilly.

Daphne turned to her father. "He needs a defense, do something." Her father looked down calculatingly as if he were almost anticipating something to happen.

"The court's proceedings cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's conveniences. Since the accused does not have a defense, we will just have-," Fudge continued.

"Defense for the accused, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

Daphne's glance swerved towards the doorway as she saw the Headmaster of Hogwarts walk into the room.

"Ah," said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. "Dumbledore. Yes. You — err — got our — err — message of the time and —err — place of the hearing, then?" Dumbledore smiled at him cheerfully and replied, "I am afraid not, Cornelius. Just a little friendly with the barmen at Hogsmeade. You know them and their incredible ability to chatter."

"Yes — well — I suppose we'll need another chair — I —Weasley, could you —?"

"Not to worry, not to worry," said Dumbledore pleasantly; he took out his wand, gave it a little flick, and a squashy chintz armchair appeared out of nowhere next to Potter. Dumbledore sat down, put the tips of his long fingers together, and looked at Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest. The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly; only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down.

"This complicates matters," Cyrus grumbled, "If Dumbledore succeeds any making any significant move, and it might shift the Potter-Black family to consider staying in the Light faction. I feel like I am stuck between choosing a rock and a hard place. Bring Potter-Black in and I will be taking a great risk, both personal and public. Lose it, and I will have lost a wonderful opportunity. And now the old man just had to drive in and complicate the situation."

"Cornelius, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, I can attest to the fact that Professor Quirrel was in fact, possessed by a wraith of Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore was speaking. Some people shrieked among the audience, while the reporters could be seen scribbling quickly into their notepads.

"That is not possible- the dark lord is dead and-"

"I never said he was alive. I said that it was _his wraith,_ which had possessed Quirinus. I hope you are not going to start about how wraiths do not exist since then I will have to personally drag you to Hogwarts to introduce you to the sixteen wraiths that currently reside inside the castle." Dumbledore replied cheerily.

Fudge stayed silent.

"Very _Slytherin_ , Headmaster," Cyrus whispered to himself, though Daphne could hear him clearly. She knew that Fudge was now in a tight situation. Wraiths were a completely believable concept since they were well documented. To talk about the dark lord as a wraith, it was a smart move.

"Shit, Fudge has gone silent."

"What happened?" She questioned. Cyrus looked down calculatingly. "He has just openly lost two fights—one with Potter and the other with the Headmaster. He is not going to allow the next fight which is about to come."

"Black's trial?" Daphne urged.

Cyrus nodded.

Fudge looked disappointed, but he got up. "Very well, Harry James Potter, you are free to go."

Potter was looking at him and giving him a seething glare. Then, he turned and looked at the people from the third tier. "I had expected the esteemed Ancient families to stand up for one of their own, but it seems I should have expected this coming. After all, it is almost a regular occurrence for a Black heir to be treated unjustly by the fellow Ancient families."

"Whatever do you mean?" Tiberius Odgen stood up and questioned.

"Sirius Orion Black. The original blood heir of the Black family. He was carted off to Azkaban without a trial."

"What farce is this?" Sebastian Nott stood up.

"The farce," Harry stated simply, "is that Sirius Orion Black, the true heir-apparent for the Black family, was carted off to Azkaban without a trial."

 _At least he is doing this part properly._ Daphne mused.

"Is this true?" Cyrus stood up and looked towards Fudge questioningly. Using his intimidating looks to the maximum efficiency, he stared at Fudge who squirmed in his seat before he croaked, "I do not understand how this is important for this trial-"

"It is important for the Ancient and Noble families," countered Augusta Longbottom, who was now visible from the shadows. Fudge squirmed a little under her stern gaze before he turned to Amelia and replied, "Amelia, please fetch for the trial transcript for Sirius Orion Black."

Amelia who had already looked into the matter when Black had escaped from Azkaban and looked back at Fudge. "There isn't one. Black was never given a trial, I tried to tell you but you put it off, citing it as _incorrect_ information."

"How is that moron the Minister of Magic?" she questioned.

"Because he is the safest bet," Cyrus answered offhandedly. In answer to her inquisitive look, he explained swiftly. "Understand one thing, Daphne. The real power of the legislative lies with the Wizengamot, especially the Ancient families. While the Ministry holds the power, the ancient families hold the power over the Minister."

"Then why not replace him and put someone better?"

"Why do that? He is doing a _fine_ job." Cyrus replied offhandedly.

"Seriously? I have seen _Hufflepuffs_ more intelligent than him." Daphne retorted.

"And who told you that the Minister held his position _because_ of his intelligence?"

"Of course he-What?" Daphne exclaimed in confusion.

Cyrus laughed bitterly. "Fudge is not Minister because he has the ability. He is Minister because he is a truly neutral person and susceptible to manipulation. The Ancient Houses can manipulate him very effectively to suit our ways and Fudge _still_ functions quite effectively despite all of that. Why do you think Albus Dumbledore allows him to stay in office despite all of the negative press that Fudge is spreading about him? The man could boot out Fudge in a week if he wanted to."

"Oh."

"Though, I think he is about to blow the shit out of proportion."

Daphne did not reply but looked at the ongoing drama.

Fudge gave the look of a trapped animal and tried to fight out. "I did not know anything about it, but it doesn't matter. If he did not receive a trial, I am sentencing him now. Send him to Azkaban and administer the Dementor's kiss on him." He continued indignantly.

"I oppose," Cyrus stood up. "A blood heir was illegally imprisoned for over twelve years. I demand that the man is freed unconditionally, accused or not."

"I am sorry, Lord Greengrass," Umbridge tried, "that is not posse-"

"Madam Umbridge," Potter snapped, "Please, shut up," raising the irate witch's ire. He looked up and addressed the audience. "As Lord Black and Lord Potter, I implore the Ancient Houses to stand and support me, and help free Sirius Orion Black under the decree of Corporal Lordship act, as our esteemed Minister stated at the start of the session."

"I should make a move before anything unexpected happens," Cyrus whispered before standing up. "I speak on the behalf of the neutral faction, and I believe that Sirius Black should be given a DMLE trial, at least for formality's sake, since it is obvious that Lord Potter doesn't believe Sirius Black guilty of betraying his parents to the dark lord." He called out.

"On behalf of the Light faction, I second the motion." Augusta Longbottom concurred.

"Very well," Amelia stood up. "Let a notice be released. The Dementor's kiss on sight order is revoked and Sirius Black is summoned to a trial at DMLE Headquarters for his official trail regarding the death of twelve muggles and Peter Pettigrew. He has twelve days to report to the DMLE. Case dismissed." She banged the gravel with the hammer.

"How about now?"

Every single eye turned towards the entrance, as a cloak billowed at the entrance, as Sirius Orion Black, you-know-who's right-hand man and the killer of Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles, lifted off the invisibility cloak off himself. Every eye stared at him, while Harry Potter looked at him, amused.

Sirius tried to gauge everyone's reaction and finding the stupefied faces staring at him but found himself at a loss.

"Umm… Taa Daa?"

* * *

 **One hour later…**

"Tell me, Potter, did you just leave your subtlety outside the door when you went inside the courtroom?" Daphne whispered at him coldly. Sirius had been cleared of all accusations and had been rewarded with a proper place in Britain. The court had ruled that the Ministry would print an apology towards Sirius Black, and try to help him regain his original reputation, and had even offered compensation because of the injustice against him.

They were sitting in the drawing room of Greengrass Manor, with Daphne and her father sitting on one side with Potter and Black sitting on the other side of the table.

"What do you mean?" Potter replied- his tone a little heated than usual. Cyrus seemed to have sensed something and asked him slowly. "Tell me, Mister Potter, did you drink anything before attending the court session?"

Harry looked at him with confusion before answering, "Why yes, Sirius did bring me a glass of… _liquid courage_ … was it?"

Daphne's eyes flashed angrily as she spun towards Black who looked seemingly unfazed. "You. Gave. Him. Firewhiskey. Before. A. Trial?"

Sirius almost raised his hands in surrender. "He was fretting and was becoming nervous. So I decided to get him some liquid courage from his private stash." Sirius defended himself. Harry stilled for a moment, "What- what did you just say?"

"Um… from your private stash?" Sirius offered, not sure what was going on. Harry gulped as he slowly turned towards Greengrass and whispered. "Greengrass, fetch me some water and hellebore roots, quickly."

"But what happens-"

"Just do it." Harry retorted angrily. Daphne narrowed her eyes but said nothing, and ran towards her private potions laboratory. Her father had built her one ever since she was nine. She quickly gathered some hellebore roots and collected some fresh water and-

 _Shit! Hellebore and fresh water. Why didn't I think that before?_

She spun back and raced back to the drawing room.

After throwing up three times in quick succession, Harry returned to the drawing room, looking severely nauseated and sick. "Next time, Sirius, please don't touch my private stash."

"I am guessing it wasn't firewhiskey in them, was it?" Cyrus surmised.

"No, just an experimental version of the Draught of Rage."

Everyone sucked their breath in. "How much did you drink?"

"Three pegs? Maybe four?" Harry offered. Now that he could feel his Occlumency shields reform and was able to think clearly, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the way he had behaved during the session. Clearly, everyone must have been disappointed by his rowdy behavior.

"I am- I am sorry regarding my behavior. I know the way I-" he began to apologize, but Cyrus raised his hand. "It is understandable, Mister Potter. I have seen how people become under the influence of the Draught of Rage. The fact that you were sane and could think on your feet speaks volumes about your emotional control." He turned to Daphne and gave her a meaningful look. She nodded back.

"There is something else I wished to talk to you about, Mister Potter. I assume Mister Black would like to be a part of it too."

Sirius and Harry shared a mutual glance and nodded.

"Very well. Let us retire to the study. Daphne," he glanced at his daughter, "I would prefer if you would not be present in this one."

"Of course, Father." Daphne bowed and strode away.

"To the study, then?" Cyrus gestured.


	23. Chapter 23 :An open challenge

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _"There is something else I wished to talk to you about, Mister Potter. I assume Mister Black would like to be a part of it too."_

 _Sirius and Harry shared a mutual glance and nodded._

 _"Very well. Let us retire to the study. Daphne," he glanced at his daughter, "I would prefer if you would not be present in this one."_

 _"Of course, Father." Daphne bowed and strode away._

 _"To the study, then?" Cyrus gestured._

* * *

 **Later in the evening…**

Since the session was held on a Saturday, Harry had obtained a written permission from the Headmaster to be excused until Sunday. He had been provided with a portkey that would take him to the Hogwarts Grounds on Sunday evening at exactly 7PM, while Daphne was supposed to Floo from her house to Mcgonagall's office, which had a usable Floo that allowed incoming from the outside world.

Daphne Greengrass sat inside her room, relaxing on her bed as she read one of her mother's subscribed magazines. Her mother, Victoria Greengrass, was a healer by profession and though Daphne did not have any ambition towards that particular career, she did hold a fancy for the subject.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Harry entered the room, almost silently, his face revealing that he was deep in thought. Daphne instantly stood up and summoned a chair from one corner of her room to where her bed was.

"Have a seat." She offered. Harry took it, his glance never leaving her face as he sat down and let out a deep breath.

"I presume my father wanted to talk to you about the contract?"

Harry looked skeptically at her as he nodded slowly. "I cannot understand why on earth you would agree to this."

Daphne narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

Harry paused, gathering his words. "Look Greengrass, I like you. I mean, not that _like_ like, but well, I kind of have fun teaching and training you, and all of that is nice and all, but… marriage?"

"Oh." Daphne surmised. "Am I not beautiful enough for you?"

Harry widened his eyes as he felt the discussion moving towards a dangerous side. These were uncharted waters and ancient magic or not, there was simply no way to traverse through these waters and come out safely.

"No, it's not that-"

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Daphne pressed.

"What? No-"

"A crush?"

Harry thought of Cho for a moment, but she had chosen Cedric and ever since the start of fifth year, she had been eyeing him like eye-candy, something he was not comfortable. He took a deep breath and replied, "No..."

"Do you like boys then?" Daphne retorted, keeping her face straight. Harry blushed in embarrassment and replied, "I certainly do not."

"Then what is your problem, Potter?"

 _Good point. What the hell was his problem?_

"It's not that-" he tried to explain; though no proper explanations came to his mind. After all, he had never really thought about Daphne as a girlfriend, though she cut a great figure and she was witty and quick with a wand and did that thing with her lips and-hang on! Why was he thinking about her?

"I am waiting, Potter." Daphne replied, tapping her foot impatiently.

 _Damn. Fighting battles is easier than this._

"Well-" Harry drawled, dragging it and fishing for more time to think of a suitable reply, "I never really thought of you as a potential girlfriend and-"

"Oh I didn't know that. Tell me more." Daphne replied sassily. "Look Potter, if our families are up in an official alliance, this is a requirement. You spelt this on us, and now you have to deal with it. Come on, tell me. What is your problem in getting tied with me for life?"

"Why is it necessary?" Harry asked. Daphne muttered something obscure under her breath, before she answered. "When Potter-Black gets into an alliance with Greengrass, it will surely attract the dark lord's eye towards us. Since my father is the leader of the neutrals, allying with you makes the neutral faction an eyesore for the dark lord. The official alliance is not enough for my father to keep the neutral faction under control."

"So all of this is to simply benefit the political coalition between our families?" Harry questioned, eyeing her warily.

"Don't be daft, Potter. Coalitions are everything. People do things for a reason. For old families like ours, marriage is another name for coalition. Even if you would reject my proposal right now, sometime in the near future, you would have to marry some girl to carry on your legacy. You are the Lord of two Ancient Houses. If it makes you any happier, that gives you the right to marry two witches. Marry me and keep the alliance strong and intact, and then fall in love with some fairy tale princess of your choice and then marry her. The alliance would be kept powerful and safe, and you can be happy ever after."

"And what about you?" Harry questioned. "What about your choices in life?"

Daphne looked away. She walked up to the open window and replied. "I am the heir apparent of my family, and being the eldest daughter, it is my responsibility to make sure that my family name continues first and foremost. That is usually done in two major ways. One is that I marry a wizard who can agree to take on to my family name upon marriage. The other is to marry someone and become some kind of second wife, and give my husband at least one heir, while the next can take my family name. Once that is done, I am free for my other pursuits provided my husband doesn't have any problems with that."

Harry listened carefully to whatever she had to say, not interrupting her monologue even once. Finally, sure, that she had nothing more to say, he returned. "But why me?"

Daphne spun around and returned. "I will be frank with you, Potter. I am attracted to power. It is exactly what had attracted me towards you, the very day you caught me hiding, in the train. I saw you casting a wandless Patronus, then the Fidelius and each and every time you displayed your true power for me to see." She took a step forward. "And something tells me that I haven't seen anything yet. You are the lord of a powerful family-merger and yet very humble, at least from what I see. You are a good teacher, and you seem to be a decent person, given how you have never taken any unfair advantage of me while I was with you during the study sessions. I can hardly think of anyone better to get married with." She took another step forward.

"So I am nothing more than a convenience for you?"

"Stop acting stupid, Potter. It does not suit you. By marrying me, you get all rights to me as your wife. I don't suppose I need to describe what that entails." She retorted, trying very hard to keep the blush off her face.

"But political motivations aren't everything that matters in a marriage." Harry refuted, finding it quite hard to concentrate on the issue given how Daphne was stalking towards him. She smiled as she answered his question.

"Then?"

"What about love?"

"I'll be the first to admit that we are not in love today, Potter – I think we barely know each other. But I don't think that's a problem." At Harry's reaction, she hastily drew her hand up and explained, "Growing up, I attended many pureblood weddings. My mother always fond of saying that it was not love that sustained marriage, but marriage that sustained enduring love. I believe that's true, it certainly was true with my own parents."

"But what about- you know-" Harry tried to make some appropriate gestures but failed dismally. He wondered what happened to all his subtlety and his illusionary powers.

Daphne smiled. "What is it now? Romance?"

Harry nodded. Daphne took another step forward. "I thought so. Anyway, that shouldn't be a problem." She had come very close to him, their bodies a few inches apart. "Just do not deny my father when he offers you the contract once again. You can have all the romance that you want." She pressed herself toward his chest and kissed him softy on his lips. Harry was initially shocked but then his mind registered the softness of her pink lips as he reacted to her and kissed her back.

After a moment, Daphne left his lips and stepped back. "Hmmm. Not bad, Potter."

Harry had a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Will you agree to the contract then?"

Harry paused for a while. "I am not sure if this is right, but I will say yes."

"Good. For the record, my name is Daphne. Use it, Potter."

"Only if you call me Harry."

"Deal."

* * *

"Never thought that the son of Lily and James would marry via a betrothal contract, Harry." Sirius guffawed as he congratulated his godson with a rather resounding pat in the back. "Lily would be livid, while James would think of it as some elaborate prank and laugh his arse off. But tell me this, godson, how is it that you kept that girl frightened all this time, and now she managed to frighten you into agreeing to a betrothal?" Sirius laughed harder.

Harry scowled, trying hard to keep his embarrassment from showing up on the face. "I don't know. I was- I was kind of confounded, like she was using some illusion on me..." Harry proclaimed. "Trust me, I would fight a horde of dummies any day over that."

"Just like your grandfather you are." Sirius laughed. "Ferocious with the wand, but would turn into a frightened kitten when dealing with his wife. And she was a ferocious one too, great-aunt Dorea. A Black and a Slytherin. Good to know that you take after your grandpa."

Harry blushed. "So what happens now?"

"Now you return to school. The port key leaves in an hour anyway. Make sure to check out the morning newspaper. It is sure to carry some surprising news."

"This is going to be in the newspaper?" Harry asked, completely horrified. Sirius just smirked. "Of course, you are the boy-who-lived plus the youngest dual Lord in Magical history. A betrothal contract tying three Ancient families is a news for the first page. Then again, your name makes sure that it is on the first page anyway." Harry looked more and more horrified with each sentence, and Sirius continued, enjoying the look of horror on his godson's face. "I am sure people will begin asking you if you have planned your honeymoon destinations or not…."

"GAAAAAAAH!" Harry yelled. "Enough with that. It is just a betrothal yet. We haven't got married."

"But you will," Sirius pressed, not willing to let him escape, "and then you will have a couple of tiny, tiny-"

"Aaaah- I left something in the drawing room. I need to collect it." Harry diverted quickly. "Talk to you later, Sirius." He quickly threw Sirius's arm off and raced away, leaving an amused godfather behind.

* * *

 **Back at the school on Monday…**

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table with the Weasley twins, having his breakfast and enjoying their friendly banter. The twins as usual, were creeping everyone out with that twin-speech of theirs and commenting on what Harry should include in his DA sessions. Bill had not yet returned from Egypt but he had sent a letter informing that he would be back by Christmas for a couple of weeks. His glance darted slowly to the Slytherin table as he caught Greengrass-err- Daphne's eye and she nodded slightly, a ghost of a smile on her lips. Harry nodded back, remembering the conversation they had had before returning to Hogwarts.

" _ **You know they will make a big deal out of it." Daphne surmised.**_

" _ **I don't know. The Weasleys, they should understand. Dumbledore I don't really care. I am not sure about you, though. Slytherin won't really be that accepting of you if you have… to quote your own words, tied yourself to me."**_

 _ **Daphne chuckled. "Yes, I don't think they will, unless…" She smiled disarmingly at him, making him fear for his sanity. "Perhaps if you could have some interactions with the Slytherins, the more open-minded ones at least, it could help."**_

 _ **Harry nodded gravely. "The things you make me do."**_

" _ **Why Mister Potter? Are you feeling tied down?"**_

 _ **Harry smirked. "Maybe. Or maybe this is just an illusion to lure you into a feeling of safety."**_

 _ **Daphne edged closer to him. "What if I do not want to be safe?" Her lips drew close, very, very close to his. "I am beginning to like a little danger." She drew even closer, so much that he could feel her breath on his face. His lips went forward to grab hers and-**_

 _ **With a playful smirk, Daphne drew away. "It's getting late, Potter. We need to return to school."**_

" _ **Damn woman."**_

"We didn't know that ickle Harrikins liked his girls in green and silver!"

The statement drew Harry's attention as he turned towards the twins who just smirked back at him. Even Lee Jordan looked interested.

"Say, Harry, did any Slytherin girl catch your fancy?" Lee urged, mimicking the twins' expression. Harry grinned back conspiratorially and returned, "I don't kiss and tell."

Fred wiped off an imaginary tear and whispered. "Good Lord, Forge, our little boy grew up! We should be so proud."

"He will be soon bedding girls on a daily basis." George supplied.

"Our youngest and most trusted advisor, after all." Fred quipped.

Harry scowled and swatted George behind on his head. Said boy began rubbing his head and grinned back.

"Tell me, Harry, when do you plan to start on with the DA?"

"I was thinking…."

" _ **With the DA going on, how will you get time for our and your own training?"**_

" _ **I guess I will have to think of something."**_

 _ **Daphne frowned with mock-anger. "Make sure that my private time is not lost because of your wish to become a messiah for DADA education."**_

" _ **Oh really, who was it that came to me for help in DADA?"**_

" _ **Maybe I just wanted to see you up and close. You never know."**_

" _ **Cheeky minx."**_

"I was thinking about doing it on weekends. That day, everyone would be free and it could run without any problems."

"Hermione mentioned that you helped her find a room." Lee supplied. Harry's countenance darkened for a second before he controlled it and nodded. "I might have helped her a bit."

"So where is this secret training room?"

Harry's eyes glinted with mirth. "You will have to ask the resident bookworm for that." Fred stared at him curiously before commenting, "Why can't you show us?"

"Because I don't have the permission." He countered evasively.

"What do you-" Fred's words went unsaid as screeches filled the Great Hall as owls dive-bombed at the students, dropping the morning newspaper over the tables. Everyone gathered a piece of the Daily Prophet to look at the morning headlines.

 _And here it begins… three... Two… one…_

Almost in unison, every single eye turned to look at him, including Fred and George, staring at him in disbelief. Their gazes made him swallow a bit, before his eyes met the headlines of the paper.

 **HARRY POTTER —-THE LORD POTTER AND LORD BLACK?**

 **POTTER-BLACK-GREENGRASS ALLIANCE!**

 **POTTER AND BLACK SHIFTS TO THE NEUTRAL BANNER. WHAT THE LIGHT AND DARK FACTIONS HAVE TO SAY?**

 **HARRY POTTER BETROTHED TO GREENGRASS HEIRESS!**

 **On the twentieth of October, this previous Saturday, an emergency session of the Wizengamot was called for by the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, with the agenda of condemning the boy-who-lived and putting him to a trial over the accusation that he was holding the Black lordship illegally. The boy-who-lived showed up for the trial and in a rather boisterous manner, pointed out the farce that was being carried out. By the end of the session, Harry Potter was recognized as Lord Potter and Lord Black (especially after he demonstrated Parseltongue in the courtroom and called it his family magic). He also proved that he was the true Lord Black by summoning the Black family totem against Lucius Malfoy who, on behalf of his son Draco Malfoy, had challenged him over the lordship. As his first deed as Lord Black, Harry Potter cast Draco Malfoy out of the Black family for good. Was that a show of power or was Lord Black eliminating all kinds of opposition? We all know what the last Parseltongue speaker did to Magical Britain, and now our savior is a Speaker too, and has no qualms over demonstrating his magical prowess in public. We at the Daily Prophet wonder what lies in the future. Is this a portent, which says that our savior might turn into another destroyer?**

 **In other news, Sirius Black, notorious for his betrayal of the Potters to You-know-who and killing of Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles, in a surprising turn of events was revealed innocent. The Ancient Houses ruled over the Ministerial jurisdiction and granted Sirius Black a trial under Veritaserum during which several important facts came to light. Peter Pettigrew was the true secret keeper of the Potters and had betrayed them to the Dark Lord You-know-who, framing Mister Black in the process. Mister Black was instantly given a free pardon and apologized to, for the inefficient Ministry administration and the injustice done to him.**

 **The Ministry has released an official statement saying that Lord Harry James Potter, the Lord Potter has been adopted into the Black family and accepted as the new Lord Black. The House of Potter and Black, now in a single family merger called Potter-Black, sent out a notice claiming to shift from the Light and Dark factions respectively, into the Neutral faction, under the banner of Lord Greengrass, who at the moment, heads the Neutral families at the Wizengamot. What does this mean for the other factions now that the Neutrals have gained a powerful ally while the others have lost powerful vote-blocs?**

 **On Sunday, a Ministerial notice was released, stating the coalition of House Greengrass with the House Potter-Black, confirmed by the news of the betrothal between Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass, who is the heir apparent of the House of Greengrass. That means that the most sough-after minor is not a minor anymore, and nor is he single anymore. We wonder what the female population of our readers have to say about that.**

 **Our experts on Magical genealogy and customs state that being the Lord of two Houses, Lord Potter has the right to marry two witches. With his betrothal to Miss Greengrass, that just leaves one slot open. Who shall be the other bride? The answer to that question remains to be seen.**

 **Sirius Black, Lord Potter's godfather and adopted father had to say, "Harry is the best of his parents. While the Potters have never really went for betrothals, the Blacks have been famous for it, considering how the Black marriages over the last century have all involved betrothals. I suppose he takes after his Black heritage in this case." Lord Cyrus Greengrass had to comment, "It is with great pleasure that I am confirming this union between our families, and with this, we confirm that the Potter-Black alliance has truly joined the neutral faction."**

 **Lord Potter was unavailable for comment, and so was Miss Greengrass. We at the Daily prophet wish them a happy life.**

Harry felt every eye staring at him. It eerily reminded him of the way people were staring when his name had come out of the Triwizard Cup. A sideward glance at Daphne showed her simply eating her breakfast, ignoring the stares that the entire Slytherin House were giving her. The entire Hall was completely silent, just like the calm before the storm, so silent that he could even count the beatings of his heart.

Thump….

Thump….

"Harry?"

His gaze turned back, only to find the bright blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore staring back at him. There was no twinkling, just a sharp, calculating stare in them.

"Please accompany me to my office."

Harry was about to retort, but somehow sitting in the hall and facing the staring students did not seem like a luring alternative to him. "Sure." He muttered, before the old man nodded and walked away, with Harry swiftly following behind him. His eyes met Daphne's as he past across the Slytherin table, as he crossed the antechamber.

* * *

"Do you understand what you have done?"

Harry stared at the Headmaster who was standing in front of him. There was no trace of the dotty old man, whom everyone knew and respected as the Headmaster of Hogwarts. His eyes were devoid of the usual warmth that Harry had seen all these years.

"I believe I do."

"And may I ask why you decided to make such a transition from the Light faction to the neutrals?"

Harry sat comfortably on the chair. Looking at Dumbledore in the eye, he returned. "Who was it that managed the political interests of House Potter after my father's death?"

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. "I did."

"There, you have your answer. You managed the interests of House Potter, and yet, you left the blood heir with _filthy muggles_ to have a tortured childhood. If that isn't reason enough, then I do not know what is."

"Your family has always been part of the Light faction, Harry. Your parents wouldn't have wanted-"

"My parents are dead, Headmaster. I don't know what they would have wanted." Harry retorted. "If they were to see how the Light has treated their only son, perhaps they would have had different thoughts too."

Dumbledore sighed. "I do not understand why you are being so difficult, Harry."

"You don't?" Harry's voice turned as cold as ice. "You truly don't know _why_ I am being so difficult?"

Dumbledore considered his words. While it was true that he had wronged the boy, and needed to make things clear with him, he wanted to wait for some more time to analyze the changes in him. However, it was getting more and more complicated with each passing day, and it would not do to have the Light breaking into separate factions, especially when Tom was back.

"I know I have wronged you, and that you hold me responsible for-" he saw Harry glaring at him and quickly changed his words, "—I mean, I am responsible for your losses and your problems, but I was hoping to sit and clear things out."

"Not interested."

"Excuse me?" Dumbledore asked incredulously.

"I. Am. Not. Interested." Harry returned, punctuating each and every word. "I am done with you, with this madhouse called Magical Britain and with your blasted Order and Voldemort. I am done being the Boy-who-lived. Let someone else take up the mantle."

His words hit the old man like piercing curses, as the truth of how much Harry had changed hit him in the face. "You wouldn't fight against Voldemort?" He asked incredulously.

"Of course I will, if he comes after me, my family and my friends. As for the rest of Magical Britain, I couldn't care less. They have glorified me one week and vilified me the next, using my name and fame in any way that suited their personal motivations."

Dumbledore sighed. "I wanted to postpone this discussion with you for later but it seems that the time has finally come for me to reveal it?"

"What? Is this the moment when you shove the prophecy on my head and tell me that I have to defeat Voldemort or something?" Harry snarled.

Dumbledore instantly paled... "How—how do you know about the Prophecy?"

Harry scoffed. "Wasn't that difficult to figure it out. The order isn't well known for their subtlety. Sirius and I worked it out by the first week itself."

"I… see." Dumbledore looked at him calculatingly. "Do you know what it entails?"

"No." Harry replied grudgingly. "And I don't care."

"You should," Dumbledore replied forcefully, "Especially when it is a matter of life and death."

Harry had enough of that. He stood up. "I am getting late for class, Headmaster. Now if you are done with-"

"We are not done talking. I had not hoped it to be like this, but you leave me no choice. I know you are a powerful and resourceful wizard, Harry. I know you are angry on me and you are right in being so. Nevertheless, take this as a word of advice from a more experienced wizard; - even the mighty can fall to Hubris. In fact, you are the greatest example of that. Lord Voldemort fell not to some great arch-mage but to a toddler, and now you are repeating his mistake."

Harry glared at the old mage, gritting his teeth. Every time he saw Dumbledore, it reminded him about how he had to pretend that he was among friends. He had to smile and laugh when all he wanted was to snarl and sneer. Here was the man who had wronged him, and yet this sanctimonious bastard had the gall to preach that he was in the wrong path. He spun back towards the door and took a step forward.

"You really want to kill me, don't you?"

Harry spun back, an unbelievable expression on his face as he regarded the old man in front of him. Dumbledore took his chance and continued. "I know how it feels, Harry. The unbelievable power of the family magic and the devastating effect of the spells written in them. Very few are blessed with enough magical power to actually perform the spells. You, Lord Voldemort and I are among those blessed ones."

"What do you mean to say, Dumbledore?" Harry returned coldly. Dumbledore simply smiled and gazed back at him.

"I know that rage. That power trickling in your fingers, the confidence that comes when using such deadly magics, Harry. I myself have _**butchered**_ thousands when I was a fighter like you. I know how the rage propels your magic, and I know how it propels you to use it more. There is a reason why such powerful magics are conscripted. Fight it Harry, or else…"

"Or else... Or else what?" Harry snarled.

"One who fights monsters must make sure that he doesn't himself turn into one." Dumbledore replied simply.

"Are you accusing me of going dark, Dumbledore? Because if you are, I don't care."

"Yes, I am." Dumbledore replied. "But not dark. I am accusing that if not checked, you are going to lose your way. I know you think that the solace of your family magics will be enough to keep Voldemort at bay. That is not going to work. He will come for you, and in your hubris, you will fail, and the world will turn to ash."

"What do you want?" Harry asked, frustrated.

"I want to end these... disappointments and differences among us, and I know that no matter how much I insist, you will not agree to a normal discussion. You have too much anger in you and most of that anger is directed at me." Harry raised his eyebrows but Dumbledore continued, raising his wand. "Duel me, Harry Potter. I give you permission to use anything and everything you have against me. No exceptions, no rules. Use the full power you have in you and the deadliest of magics you can call for your aid. The duel continues until one of us is incapacitated."

Harry looked at him skeptically. "I do not understand your reasons, Dumbledore. If this is another way of trying to manipulate me-"

"Manipulation has its limits, Harry. I have decided to take the direct approach this time." Dumbledore replied. "I am giving _you_ a chance, Harry Potter. A chance for you to _hurt_ me back for every wrong that I have done to your life. _Don't you want that chance?"_

Harry simply stared at the old man.

"There is just one thing I want you to agree with."

"And what is that?" Harry asked coldly.

"If I win, you will listen to what I have to say. No interruptions and no taking offense out of every word coming out of my mouth. After I am done, you can do whatever you like."

Harry considered it. "And what if I win?"

"If you win, I will be the happiest person in the world, knowing that there is someone whom the dark lord needed to fear," Dumbledore replied, shocking the wits out of him. "But I suppose you don't have any respect for my sentiments, so tell me, Harry Potter, what do you want if you win?"

"If I win," Harry paused, "I want all interference from you stopped. I want to live my life free of interference."

Dumbledore looked at him in the eye. "Deal."

Harry jerked his head. "Very well. When do you want to duel?"

"Tomorrow afternoon at two. Hogwarts Grounds. I suppose the students could do with a real duel, perhaps the greatest dueling show on earth. It's a pity the original dueling classes were abolished." Dumbledore chuckled. "You game?"

Harry nodded unperceptively.

Dumbledore extended his hand forward to shake Harry's. "May the best wizard win?"


	24. Chapter 24 : Defiance

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Harry looked at him skeptically. "I do not understand your reasons, Dumbledore. If this is another way of trying to manipulate me-"_

 _"Manipulation has its limits, Harry. I have decided to take the direct approach this time." Dumbledore replied. "I am giving you a chance, Harry Potter. A chance for you to hurt me back for every wrong that I have done to your life. Don't you want that chance?"_

* * *

 **ALBUS DUMBLEDORE CHALLENGES HARRY POTTER TO AN OPEN DUEL!**

 **IS THIS THE BIRTH OF THE DARK LORD POTTER?**

 **In a rather surprising turn of things, Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the defeater of Dark lord Grindelwald, has challenged Harry Potter to an all-open duel to be held today afternoon at 2 PM. The venue for the upcoming duel is none other than our own Hogwarts grounds where the grand old man of Hogwarts will face off the newly coined Lord Potter-Black in what is being speculated as one of the most awaited duels in modern history. The most surprising fact is that Albus Dumbledore himself sent a missive to the office of the Daily Prophet, informing us about this upcoming event. We at the Daily prophet would like to quote a part of his missive here.**

" **This duel is simply a professional duel decided between me and Mister Potter. This duel, in no way, is demonstrating any kind of argument between us, nor does it demonstrate any kind of difference arising out of the fact that Lord Potter-Black shifted his House from the Light to the neutral side of the spectrum. Being a former battle-transfiguration master myself, I anticipate the chance to battle someone as powerful as Mister Potter has proven to be, in hopes that I might get someone worthy of being my apprentice, under the banner of the Transfiguration Guild. My former Master and friend, Arch mage Samuel Thüringen is going to be present as spectator to this duel, which I hope will be satisfying to the audiences."**

 **Tiberius Odgen, the Lord of the Ancient and Noble family of Odgen had to comment, "Given the way Lord Potter demonstrated a corporeal Patronus wandlessly, it can be expected that he has the tremendous power reserve just as Albus Dumbledore was famed to have. While Albus has never been known for his wandless abilities, his knowledge of transfiguration is unparalleled, as is his knowledge of arcane battle magic. Will Harry Potter and his magical power match up to the mammoth, as Albus Dumbledore is known to be? I do not know but I am tremendously excited to watch the duel."**

 **Lucius Malfoy commented from his family manor at Wiltshire, "While Dumbledore's abilities are greatly over-estimated, there exists no doubt that he is an able wizard, and I expect him to put Potter down from the self-made pedestal he is standing on." Mister Malfoy went on to describe the boisterous behavior demonstrated by Mister Potter at the Wizengamot, and commented that he would be present at the duel, if only to see how Mister Potter falls from the sky to the ground.**

 **We also interviewed Lord Greengrass about his thoughts and the leader of the neutral faction had to say, "I cannot speak for Mister Potter as he is his own person, but I will attend this duel. In all probability, this duel will demonstrate Mister Potter's true magical prowess to the Wizarding world at large. Dumbledore is a magical titan and has been a connoisseur of the arcane arts for over a century. I do not think that there is any shame, even if Mister Potter fails to defeat Albus Dumbledore in this legendary duel that we all anticipate."**

Harry looked up as someone slapped the Daily Prophet on the floor in front of him. Standing in front of him, hands folded and her face frowning with irritation was Daphne Greengrass. She stared at him and observed, the frown still marring her angelic face. Not getting a reaction, she began tapping her feet impatiently.

"Are you expecting me to say anything?" Harry asked solemnly.

"No. This is beyond the limit of all stupidity. Why would you agree to a duel with Dumbledore? You are powerful, I get that, but this is _Dumbledore_ , we are talking about. Has this family magic gone to your head, Potter?" She scoffed.

Harry tilted his head and replied, 'Have you forgotten what my family magic can do, Greengrass?"

"No, I didn't, but you haven't mastered it all, have you?" Harry didn't reply, and Daphne continued, "In any event, this is Dumbledore. That man has been into magical arts for over a damned century. Surely you aren't thinking you could beat him?"

Harry got up. "This isn't about me beating him, Greengrass. I have my own reasons to fight him."

"And what are they?" Daphne demanded.

Harry gave her a cold stare as she swallowed. "My discussion with Dumbledore made me understand one single thing. There is one thing that matters more than everything else does in this world. That thing is power."

Daphne nodded, willing to listen to his reasons, before granting him a piece of her mind.

"You know very well how badly I behaved in front of everyone at the Wizengamot. Everyone should be mocking me right now, as they did in my second year and last year. I suppose you did not forget the _'Potter Stinks'_ badges that you all wore?" Daphne looked embarrassed. She had indeed worn one of those badges Malfoy had procured.

"Do you know why the Daily Prophet and the other esteemed members of the Wizengamot aren't doing that, right now?"

The answer was simple.

"Tell me, Daphne. What was it?"

Daphne swallowed as the answer left her lips. "Your _wandless_ Patronus."

"Right." Harry returned, "While I would never have revealed any of my abilities in the right mind, this draught of rage did indeed teach me a simple lesson. Money didn't matter. Blood didn't matter. Fame didn't matter. Not when you had _that_ kind of Power in your hands."

Daphne just listened.

"I realized why it was that no one cared that Voldemort was actually Tom Riddle, a half-blood at best and a muggle born at worst. Nobody cared that Albus Dumbledore was from a junior half-blood house. Both of them had power and knew how to wield it. Importantly, both of them demonstrated their power in public."

"You want them to know that you are not someone to be trifled with." Daphne surmised.

"Yes." Harry reasoned. "I don't care if Voldemort gets to know about it. If I keep on worrying about keeping my powers secret, I will have to live my life, keep myself from using my true power in my battles, fearing that someone will know about my true abilities and powers. Nevertheless, I have had my eyes opened. Let them see what I can do. This is not the Gryffindor in me speaking; this is me simply marking the line."

Daphne understood. The duel was a good way of sending a message. A message to the people all across the world. Here was a wizard by the name of Harry Potter. A wizard who had the ability to battle someone as legendary as Albus Dumbledore was. Even if he did not _win_ the duel, the show would simply be enough for people to understand that Harry Potter was not someone to be messed with. Moreover, wasn't that the original idea? If the dark lord understood that Harry Potter commanded powerful magic and that Harry Potter did _not_ want to fight him, he would take the threat seriously and stay away. If not, he would be forever be coming for him, trying his level best to kill Harry and make him fight whether he wanted to or not. In a weird kind of way, demonstrating his abilities was an extremely Slytherin maneuver.

"I agree with you, but is that the only reason you are fighting him?" She demanded softly.

"Mostly." Harry responded. Daphne knew that he played his card close to his chest, and would not answer unless he wished. She held his hand, squeezed it comfortably. No more questions were asked, no explanations given.

* * *

 **The next day…**

"Are you sure about this, godson?"

Harry nodded. Sirius looked concerned, very concerned.

"Something on your mind, Sirius?"

Sirius fidgeted a bit, hesitating to speak his mind out. The Black scion had come to Hogwarts to meet his godson. The two were having a private moment, a pep talk of sorts, before the duel could officially begin.

"Sirius, there is only one person I trust completely, and that is you. If you need to hesitate before speaking to me, I don't know what I should say." Harry replied solemnly.

Sirius seemed to make up his mind and finally returned, "Look pup, I know you are powerful. Merlin, I myself trained you a little in the beginning and even then, I knew you held back. I understand that you have been training, and I understand that this is all-important to you on the one hand, but on the other- I can't help but ask-Why? Why? Why would you even want to do this?"

"Because I do not want to live in fear, controlled by manipulating old men and monsters who would force me to fight whenever they felt right. I want to go out there, and no matter I win or lose, I will make sure that both of them- Dumbledore and Voldemort, understand that I'm not the helpless child that both of them played with."

Sirius's eyes bore into his.

"At the end of every year, I begged Dumbledore to let me stay at Hogwarts, or just anywhere else for the holidays. I just did not want to go back and suffer at the hands of those filthy… Dursleys. Yet, Dumbledore did not take me seriously and despite all my begging, he sent me back like a good little present to be tortured for another summer. In my third year, he could have protected you himself, but he did not. I saw how my chance at a happy home disappear in front of my own eyes while Dumbledore did not lift a finger to help me. That is why I am going to fight him today. Even if I cannot defeat him, every spell I shoot will contain my rage and my helplessness and suffering that was caused by him. That is why this duel is so important to me."

Sirius was looking at him teary-eyed. "I—I didn't-" Harry simply hugged him back. "I don't blame you, Sirius. You did more for me than anyone else did. You gave me a chance to grow powerful, and here I am." He paused as he stared at the open grounds from the window. "During the fight with Voldemort, I was helpless. Voldemort played with me, he insulted my mother and my father and I just had a petty little _expelliarmus_ up in my sleeve..." His words were filled with so much self-loathing that even Sirius felt repelled by it. "Fighting against Dumbledore will send a message to Voldemort, that the next time he comes for me, I will not be someone he can insult and play with, That is why this duel is so important for me."

Sirius rubbed the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. His godson, no matter how powerful he was or how strong and cunning he appeared to me, was a frightened little boy deep inside, who _hated_ being weak above all things. In order to bring that little boy out of the shell, it was necessary to reveal to the world what he could do. It also explained why the boy, who was so powerful and charismatic at all moments, had become nervous and fidgeted so much before the trial. This was not some Gryffindorish bravery. This was _defiance_ against the evils, which the world had cast upon him.

"Harry! Look at me." He held the young man's shoulders firmly and stressed, "I don't care what anyone says. I do not care if you are fighting Dumbledore or some dark lord. I just want to say one thing to you." He paused.

" _Win_ the damn thing."

For the first time, Harry smiled. "I will."

* * *

The entire Hogwarts stadium was overwhelming with spectators, all awaiting the outcome of what promised to be one of the most legendary duels of all time. Older Hogwarts Alumni, agents from private companies, accomplished Masters of magical arts, Ministry officials- it was a never-ending list. Filius and Minerva had to actually use expansion charms to maximum effect on the expansive Hogwarts grounds, and even duplicate the existing number of seats, and yet, the number of spectators just seemed to increase more and more.

In the center of the stadium, an elevated rocky terrain had been transfigured for the upcoming duel. As always, Lee Jordan had been given the opportunity to show case his commentary skills and he took his usual place among the audience, his voice blaring out of the megaphone as he described the happenings going on.

"And the Headmaster- oh do my eyes really see what I think I see? Albus Dumbledore is walking up to the dueling platform dressed in formal battle-mage robes, with the symbol of Transfiguration Masters Guild imprinted on them. It seems that Harry Potter has to fight against not the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but an accomplished Master of battle-transfiguration. The transfiguration Guild has been invited to the duel and I can easily spot Master Thüringen among the audience. Master Samuel Thüringen is, of course, best known for his Mastery in battle-transfiguration and his discovery of 'Thüringen principle of advanced conjuration.'" Lee paused, allowing the audience to keep up with his commentary, "-and now it is time for our other duelist, and here he comes…."

Harry Potter walked up to the stage. Dressed in thick dragon hide armor, with a billowing cloak behind him, he stepped up on the dueling platform, looking every bit of the war mage he had read about from the family grimoire. It was time to witness if he had it in him to continue the legacy of his original roots. This might have been a duel for the spectators, but for him- it was a fight for his freedom, his independence- the answer to the shits he had been taking from the world all these years. He was going to fight Albus Dumbledore, no matter if the ancient wizard surpassed Harry in everything; only if that gave him a chance to push back.

"The two duelists have taken their place on the dueling platform, and I would like to inform everyone that there were no bars to the magic demonstrated in this duel; except, of course, the use of Unforgivables which are held as a criminal offense in the court of law. Apart from Unforgivables, all spells and magics are fair game, and the duel shall continue until one of them yields or is incapacitated." Lee commented. "And now our dear Charms Professor and nine-timed dueling champion Professor Flitwick is going to referee the game."

Filius Flitwick walked up to the stage; his cheerful countenance vanished under a serious demeanor, stood in the middle of the terrain and spoke up clearly, "On the count of three, the duel will begin. It is expected that both opponents shall make it a fair fight." Flitwick stepped back and then raised what seemed to be a white handkerchief. He raised it high in the air as he yelled, "One… Two… Three…"

He stepped out from the battle terrain, as the audiences sucked their breaths in anticipation.

"DUEL!"

BOOOOOM!

Two powerful exploding curses shot out of individual wands towards each other, met in the middle and then blew up with a tremendous explosion, as the most anticipated battle of the decade began its course. Harry whipped his wand and sent powerful and destructive spell-chains which, had it been any other person, would have ended the fight immediately. However, this was Dumbledore, who whipped his wand in complicated patterns, summoning rocks and conjuring obstacles, preventing the destructive spells from reaching him firsthand. Javelins, swords, powerful exploding curses and destructive hexes traversed the battle terrain as the two mages fought against each other. Not willing to accept defeat, Harry whipped his wand like a baton, sending a sliver of what seemed to be silver arrows at Dumbledore who waved his wand and conjured metal shields that intercepted them easily.

"Is this all you have got, Harry Potter? If it is, then you better want to forfeit the match." Dumbledore taunted. It was most unlike him, but it did not get to Harry as he had anticipated. After all, this was a battle and there was nothing that calmed Harry Potter more than being in battle. He felt his senses sharpen, as he weaved through the enormous number of spells shot out towards him from the old man.

 _Dumbledore isn't moving. He is defending using summoning and conjuring. If not for his power, this duel would have gone a different way._

It was true. The venerable mage wasn't dodging anything. He was too happy to simply summon things into the spell's path and save himself. While it spoke volumes about the man's magical power, it did give him a disadvantage too.

"Harry," Dumbledore yelled, "Stop playing around and take this fight seriously. If you don't, you will lose and lose pathetically."

Harry smirked in return. Time for the first go.

Waving his wand in complex arcs, he ran towards the old Headmaster, his magic speeding his movement, as he cast severing hexes at the man who for the first time, began to take things seriously and sent a sliver of dark spears at him. Deflecting them with nothing more than a slight wave of his wand, Harry jumped over him, thrusting his wand outward as he yelled….

"MALLEUS PUGNO PRIMUS."

Dumbledore seemed to sense what he was about to do and instantly raised his wand above himself and for the first time, spoke out, "IMPRIMIS MAXIMA..." A golden, sturdy shield formed between the two opponents with Harry Potter in the air shoving his spell down at the newly manifested shield.

WHAM!

The unstoppable force met its match against an immovable object, as the ancient shield held up against the powerful bludgeoner, causing an explosive wave so powerful that it lifted Harry and threw him back on the ground. Dumbledore, however, stood his ground, panting, with the sturdy shield still holding up there when-

CRACK!

The ancient shield shattered as Dumbledore fell down to his knees, panting. The defense had taken a lot out of him. After a couple of seconds, he stood up, wiping off the dust from his official robes as he looked at Harry and smiled. "That's more like it, my boy. And now, we duel."

Dumbledore stood his fullest height as he raised his wand towards the heavens as the sky turned cloudy and lightning began to flash now and then. Thrusting his other hand forward, he whipped his wand towards Harry, as lightning from the sky changed its course and spun towards Harry who stood his ground. The moment he saw the streak of lightning come near him, he lifted himself wandlessly into the air, as the crowd watched spellbound. The lightning crashed against the rocks and blasted them to smithereens.

"Did you see that?" Lee yelled in disbelief. "Harry Potter just flew up from the ground into the air, and now he is standing up there. How by Morgana is that possible?"

Harry smirked. Time for the second round.

"Ah, Harry, it's good to know that you have a few tricks up your sleeve." Dumbledore returned, and once again, Harry did not answer. Whipping his wand, he raised a huge mass of land, which rose upward like a mountain to reach his feet, and standing on it, he waved an arc across the stormy sky, yelling to the heavens… "FULMINATA MAXIMA!"

The arc of lightning shot out of his wand, and raced through the terrain towards Dumbledore, shattering the terrain as it crossed it. Rocks, pebbles, anything and everything that got into its way got demolished into the glassy sand, as the wave of lightning raced towards Dumbledore who waved his wand and raised another block of rock in front of him to defend against the arc. Powerful and knowledgeable he might be, but it would be a fool's hope to think that a shield would stand against something like that.

"Nice move, Harry, now it's my turn." He returned, as he waved his wand in an intricate pattern and spoke out, "AQUA ERRUCTO!" A humongous human fist, over fifty feet wide and almost equally long, composed of pure water, shot towards Harry who raised his wand to the heavens and yelled… "FIENDFYRE!"

A mammoth sized thestral emerged out of his wand, only that the thestral was made of fiery, crimson flames and galloped towards Dumbledore. Fire and water slammed into each other, with both opponents doing their best to propel their spells and supply them with increasing amounts of energy. The thestral almost roared as it drove against the watery fist, which seemed completely focused on destroying the raging beast out of existence. The heavens thundered, rain fell and the sky seemed to tear as torrents of lightning converged over the two mythical, elemental powers that raged against each other as the two powerful mages fought each other in what was presumably, a battle of wills. The clash generated powerful winds that lashed over the rest of the terrain, sending shockwaves everywhere. Most of the spectators had to hold up their hands and raise shields if only to try to stop the shockwaves from throwing them off.

* * *

"What is happening?" Ron yelled as he turned towards Hermione, whose eyes seemed to be glued at the clash of the titans before her. "This… this is…" Hermione could not find words. She knew her friend was powerful, but this… this was insane. How on earth could Harry Potter do that?

"Hermione?" Ron yelled.

"They are fighting over pure magical power. Harry is using fire against Dumbledore's water. The collisions from the clash is generating these shockwaves." She yelled back, focusing on her Protego, which seemed to buckle under the stress of the oncoming shock waves.

"Somebody STOP them!" Molly Weasley screamed from behind, "they are going to destroy the entire stadium if they continue that."

"We cannot do anything, Molly," Minerva replied, half in awe and half in resignation, "Potter and Albus are both magical juggernauts. Unless they decide to stop, no one can stop them."

Molly just swallowed in disbelief.

* * *

Harry was experiencing something he had never experienced before. The adrenaline rush and the excitement of the battle, sending shivers of excitement down his spine was propelling him to send out more and more of magical energy into the spell. He knew that he should have been magically exhausted but for some reason, more and more magical power became available to him as time progressed. Ancient words and spells kept flowing into his mind as he yelled out in fury, not wanting to lose to the man; he had lost so much to, already. He clutched his other palm into a fist and called into his magic, his logical mind already lost to his primal self as he thrust his fist out towards Dumbledore and yelled…

"INDIGNATIONE MORTIS PRIMUS!"

"How can he be so powerful? I knew he was, but this… this is inexplicable." Daphne muttered to herself as she found herself facing the truth about how devastatingly powerful her betrothed truly was. All that power, and yet he did not ever boast on it, except when under the compulsion of the rage draught. All that power… how was it even possible? Was he even human?

Dumbledore knew that unless he did something, that attack coming from Harry would kill him. With supreme effort, he somehow deviated the ongoing power struggle so that it engulfed the second attack into itself. Now Harry was forcing magic through both hands, while Dumbledore was barely being able to keep up, thanks to his incredible magical power and the Elder wand in his hand. However, if the fact that the colliding energy moving slowly toward him meant anything, it was that unless he did something, he would be blasted into smithereens. Harry Potter had lost his logical senses and was totally bent on killing him. Considering everything, Dumbledore did something had never done in his life. With an extremely complicated incantation, he summoned the powers of ancient blood sacrifice to activate a power of the ancient wand he wielded.

 _The power to cast true against the opponent's spell._

There was a reason why the Elder Wand, also known as the Wand of Destiny, or more infamously, as the Deathstick, was so sought after by wizards. Among all of its spectacular abilities, the most special were its ability to _cast true against its opponent's spell_. In simple terms, if supplied with energy, the wand had the ability to _neutralize any spell coming towards its wielder_. That was the true reason why it was known as the _unbeatable_ wand. However, this ability was supposed to work only for those of Peverell blood, since the Peverells were rumored to infuse the wand with their own family magic. Any other wielder had to sacrifice something, usually blood to activate such powers, and that too for a short amount of time.

There was a slight problem though. The opponent, in this case, was a Peverell descendant, and if his hunch was correct, Harry was just one-step away from realizing that Dumbledore was holding onto one of his family heirlooms. The wand of Peverell was now facing a blood of Peverell. _Peverell family magic against the family._

"I call you by my power, and I sacrifice my blood to beg for your power. Take my blood and fulfill my wish, and if that is enough, then _take what you will_." Dumbledore chanted mentally, praying that his blood sacrifice would be enough to convince the wand. The wand began to vibrate violently and he had trouble holding on to it. With supreme effort, he held the wand, which glowed brightly, channeling its ancient magic into the power struggle, as a huge black mist shot out of the wand, engulfing the entire mass of clashing energies into itself, as it dissolved into nothingness.

The mist faded, and everyone could see the shock in Harry's eyes as he felt his entire attack disintegrate to dust by that black mist, as he fell on his knees, unable to maintain his consciousness as the magical exhaustion hit him hard. Dumbledore fell down on his knees too, still awake and in control, happy in the knowledge that he had averted a catastrophe, though a part of him couldn't feel saddened as he felt a very familiar connection erase itself from his magical core...

The allegiance of the Elder wand had faded from him, and if his hunch was correct, the wand in question had sworn its allegiance to its blood and true master, one who had come to acquire full possession of it at last. The wand of Peverell in the hands of a Peverell, and it soothed the old man's heart that now that Harry had his chance to liberate his rage and demonstrate his defiance, it was time for the truth.


	25. Chapter 25 : A history lesson

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _The mist faded, and everyone could see the shock in Harry's eyes as he felt his entire attack disintegrate to dust by that black mist, as he fell on his knees, unable to maintain his consciousness as the magical exhaustion hit him hard. Dumbledore fell down on his knees too, still awake and in control, happy in the knowledge that he had averted a catastrophe, though a part of him couldn't feel saddened as he felt a very familiar connection erase itself from his magical core..._

 _The allegiance of the Elder wand had faded from him, and if his hunch was correct, the wand in question had sworn its allegiance to its blood and true master, one who had come to acquire full possession of it at last. The wand of Peverell in the hands of a Peverell, and it soothed the old man's heart that now that Harry had his chance to liberate his rage and demonstrate his defiance, it was time for the truth._

* * *

"Brian?"

Albus Dumbledore, one-hundred and sixty-three and quite tired, looked up from his position on the rock. He had simply rested on the uprooted, two-foot wide rock, not even caring to transfigure a chair for himself. As it was, the Elder wand was behaving almost, as any other normal wand would do- more precisely, a wand ill-suited to him. Right now, his fingers craved for his old birch wand that was at the moment, resting in a well-crafted contraption in his office, but he did not have enough power in him to summon him at the moment.

"Master Thüringen?"

Samuel Thüringen gave him a sharp glare, making Albus backpedal instantly. "I mean, Samuel." That seemed to do the trick as the old mage in front of him smiled in return. "I must say Albus, what I received and what I expected, were completely different things. That is contrary to what I normally expect from Albus Dumbledore."

"The boy is powerful, and you know that." Albus defended. Samuel raised his palm and explained, "I do not doubt the boy's capabilities, nor his power. In fact, it would be safe to say that his power exceeds your own. I was talking about your performance, Albus."

"Whatever do you mean, Samuel?

Samuel glared at him. "Do not insult my intelligence, Albus. This… farce, that you and the British call a duel, was a power struggle, clean and simple. Something that I would have expected from some amateur, not from a Transfiguration Master from you. I saw you dueling, Albus. All you were doing was trying to incite a reaction out of the boy and propel him to use his magic."

"You know very well that had I fought like I could, the duel would have finished five seconds into the start?"

"Then why do that? I admit he boy has got skill and power, but why raise him to a pedestal that should take him years, if not decades to acquire on his effort?" Samuel pressed.

"Because he needed to win, or at least demonstrate his best, though I fear he has not used all of his skills and concentrated on a brute force strategy. Else, I fear I would have lost him to darkness, Samuel. That boy, over there," Dumbledore pointed at the body of a fallen Harry Potter who was right now, being nursed by Madam Pomfrey, "-has lost a lot in his life, and most of it, because of me and my decisions." He sighed, "I became too much involved with the bigger picture and lost track of the fact that I was dealing with a human child, who has his own life, his own mentality, own emotions, and importantly, his own choices. I decided his life for him and that caused him to have a life not dissimilar to the one who calls himself Lord Voldemort. This fight, this was his shout out to the world that he was Harry Potter, he was powerful, and not one to be messed with. He needed this, and he needed to send those blows against me, since he considers me his nemesis at the moment."

"You bled off his anger? All of this, to calm him down?"

"That boy is a child of Prophecy, Master Samuel." Dumbledore confessed. "I might be older, wiser, and more knowledgeable, but I am infinitely less valuable than him. Besides, he is a child of Peverell. I assume you know what I mean." He gave him a pointed glance as he raised his wand subtly.

"Are you going to hand it over?" Samuel asked, perfectly clear, about what 'it' was. Dumbledore nodded. "I will, when he is ready. Besides, the wand has shifted his allegiance to him."

"Oh my," Samuel exclaimed, "how did that happen?"

"Sacrifice. I sacrificed my control over the wand's allegiance; else, his spell would have destroyed me. You saw the battle of wills. It was incredibly stupid of me to lock myself into a power struggle with him."

Samuel nodded unperceptively.

"Are you going to take him in as your apprentice?" He asked finally.

"I will, but he has to accept it; and knowing him, it is going to be difficult." Dumbledore returned. "There are a lot of things I need to come clear with the boy, and then, I hope, the boy will find it within himself to forgive me and train under me as my apprentice."

"I am surprised, Albus. All these years, you never showed any interest in taking one, and now suddenly- what I mean is, it is clear that you have known the boy and his power for years. Why now?"

Albus fidgeted.

"You know you can tell me." Samuel stressed.

"It has to be under oath." Samuel nodded and Albus raised a powerful dome all around them as Samuel took a secrecy oath.

"The boy was supposed to die."

Samuel raised his eyebrows.

"Not like that," Albus returned hastily, "-his body housed a fraction of the dark lord's soul and-"

"So this is why you had come to me inquiring about _horcruxes_ all those years ago."

Albus nodded gravely. "I was working on a way to prevent his death, but I had found none. Therefore, I decided that the boy would at least get a childhood to enjoy with friends if nothing else. In my arrogance, I took wrong decisions and I destroyed the boy's childhood in more ways than I can imagine. The fact that the boy isn't already gone dark by now is nothing but a miracle." He paused, looking up to face his mentor and friend, "-now that he has somehow, freed himself from the horcrux, I can teach him to be Voldemort's true equal, if not surpass him. Hence, the offer of apprenticeship."

"But what if he doesn't wish to fight for you? As far as I can see, he is quite defiant. Are you sure you are not taking his future decisions for granted?" Samuel pressed.

Albus sighed. "I am not. However, I trust Harry and his impeccable capacity to love. I am hopeful that he will take the right decisions."

Samuel nodded gravely. "I suppose I shall see your… _miracle_ boy, soon then if he agrees to apprentice under you?"

Albus nodded.

* * *

Daphne watched Harry fall down on the ground unconscious, and unknown to her, a shriek had escaped her voice seeing him fall. She had tried to run up to him but the wards separating the dueling platform and the spectator stand held, stopping her from reaching across to her friend, tutor and now betrothed. She had witnessed when Harry had locked Dumbledore in a battle of wills, and almost won it, especially when he had fired off the other wandless burst. She was sure that Dumbledore, the mighty Albus Dumbledore would lose and her betrothed would gain a name in the world as the one who had the power to defeat Dumbledore. Then it happened.

Dumbledore was losing, and then suddenly that black fog thing shot out of his wand and engulfed Harry's entire attack, vanishing away Harry's spell and the power struggle to nothingness. It had happened faster than she had recognized. One moment Harry was pushing the clashing energies towards Dumbledore and the next-

"Dad, I want to go see Harry, NOW!"

"I understand, my dear, but I do not think that Harry is in a position to meet anyone at this-"

"NOW!"

Cyrus sighed. "Very well. Let me see if I can convince the stubborn Poppy Pomfrey."

* * *

 **Meanwhile at the Hospital wing…**

"Poppy, try to understand that I need to see Harry." Sirius defended hotly.

Poppy Pomfrey had been the Hogwarts Matron for over twenty-five years, and she had not done that by bowing down whenever someone decided to go all male and stubborn over her. She put her foot on the ground and glared back at Sirius, who mentally whined at her stubbornness. "Understand this, Mister Black, you might have gotten the reputation of a mass-murderer, but this is my Wing. I am not allowing anyone near Potter until his magical core heal itself back to normal."

Sirius felt his knees go weak. "How is he, tell me that at least."

Poppy considered the question. "Not good." Seeing the crashed look on Sirius's face, she expounded upon her initial statement. "Potter's core is undergoing some kind of abrupt changes. It is pulsating one moment, morphing the next, it is almost like he is undergoing his magical maturity, but that is impossible since he is only fifteen at the moment."

"He is stronger than most wizards, wouldn't that-?"

"Black, Albus Dumbledore reached his maturity at twenty-one." Poppy hesitated, "besides, even if this is his magical maturity because of some kind of mutation of his magical core under duress, his body is burning. I mean, _literally burning_. His temperature is way beyond the acceptable limits. I tried to bring him back to consciousness but his magic is rejecting treatment. It is almost like… he is undergoing some kind of _metamorphosis_."

Sirius looked scared. "He will be alright, right?"

Poppy looked down. "I don't know."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore strode into through the hallway; the pepper-up potion he had taken had threw off much of the tiredness from the duel, if that could be termed as a duel. In hindsight, perhaps he should have taken the boy a little more seriously, given the amount of power he had been throwing all over the place. Maybe if he had used his own abilities and finished the fight, it would have been a better idea, but he had no regrets. After all, the wand of Peverell was now in the rightful owners of the blood descendant of the Peverells. That family had always interested him when he was a young and budding apprentice, studying under Samuel Thüringen as a young recruit of the Battle-Transfiguration guild. He still remembered Samuel's lecture about the origin of the term—Warmage and its link and descendancy from the Peverells.

" **The term Warmage, while having some similitude to the word 'battle mage' has got a lot of differences than the latter. War mages were an ancient group of mages who could be related to the bloodthirsty warlords of the East in terms of their actions and their conquests."**

" **Like dark lords?" One of the students, Serena spoke up.**

" **Not really. Dark lords have an agenda, which is usually to hold dominance over others."**

" **And they don't?" Said student questioned back.**

" **No, they do, just that their agendas are more… pedestrian and primal at the same time."**

" **As in?" Albus asked.**

" **The Warmages, or rather, should one say, all Warmages, were descended from one single family." Samuel paused, raising everyone's curiosity, "The Peverells."**

 **Albus was aback with surprise. "The Peverells as in the tale of three brothers—Peverells?"**

 **Serena burst into laughter. "Only you, Albus." She chortled. "Only you would believe in the kid's tales." Albus grimaced, not wanting to share how his ex-best friend, a rising dark lord at present, was a major seeker of the items talked about in said kid's tale.**

" **That is offensively short-sighted of you, Serena," Samuel chastised, much to Serena's surprise. "Why, the apprentices in the Artificer's guild would be able to prove the way the three items, also known as the Deathly Hallows, have passed hands all through the course of history."**

" **You cannot be serious!" Serena retorted.**

" **On the contrary, I am." Samuel explained, "However, we digress. The Peverells were the only family to have Warmages- they were concerned with two things- one was protection of their own, and the other was conquering newer magics and add them to their bloodline."**

" **Add magics to their bloodline?" Albus pressed.**

" **Yes. The Peverell family magic was parasitic, although the family name went extinct around nine hundred years before the creation of Hogwarts."**

" **What happened to the magic then?" Albus pressed.**

" **Excuse me?"**

" **You said that the family name went extinct. It is quite natural that the family changed to something else, or at least, was merged into another."**

" **Very astute, Albus." Samuel congratulated. "Our magical records state the birth of another family around the same time when the Peverells went extinct." He paused. "Potter."**

" **Wait, Potter? Like Charlus Potter?"**

" **Yes."**

" **But the Potters are traders." Albus defended.**

" **Yes, they are. A family of traders that owe their original existence to a family of butchers. As per as magical records state, the Peverell family grimoire is sealed inside the Peverell vault at Gringotts under blood wards. To date, no Potter has stepped inside the Peverell Vault, as neither of them has had the magic qualifying them to access the contents within."**

 **Samuel allowed the students to absorb what he said, before he continued, "Back to Warmages, now. The earliest Warmages were the creators of the arte of battle-transfiguration, though some tomes state that they had somehow combines the war-magic of Le Fay and the transfiguration principles employed by the mages of the temple of Morrighan into one, and used it extensively in their conquests against other families."**

" **So they were barbarian." Serena commented.**

" **Yes and no. They were barbarian in their approach, but magically, they were the most powerful stronghold. They protected the magical land of Albion from the external invaders from other continents many times. In fact, they were the main line of defense against foreign invasions."**

" **Barbarian—parasitic magic-main line of defense. Wonderful!" Serena commented sarcastically. Albus ignored her. Serena Thüringen was one of the most brilliant transfigurators he had ever seen, but she was remarkably close-minded about other things. Quite a paradox considering that transfiguration was heavily dependent on imagination.**

" **So what happened to the Peverells?" Albus pressed. "I mean, you make them sound nearly invincible, and yet the family magic changed into Potters."**

" **Legends say that it was an invasion. A catastrophe. One that had nearly ravaged the magical land of Albion. An invasion that obliterated the Peverells. The Peverells had lost, and they had lost brutally and the invaders were about to plunder into our lands."**

" **And then they vanished off from the surface of the earth."**

" **What do you mean?" Serena asked, the hype having piqued her curiosity.**

" **Something happened. The records do not state how, but something happened, and the entire invasion was destroyed. Overnight."**

" **Who or what did that?"**

" **Some say he was a God. Some say it was the Peverell family guardian. Others said that the Emrys had resurrected back to protect the world he had worked so hard to establish. But someone came down, someone like lightning tearing down the sky, and exterminated the invaders out of existence."**

 **Nobody spoke a word.**

" **Records state that near about the same time, the Potters sprung into existence. A family of traders, with nothing but ordinary battle-magic they held as their family magic. That is as far as the records go.**

 **Albus gazed at his Master silently.**

"I suppose this is the first time when the wand of Peverell is going to be in the hands of one. I just hope Harry listens to what I have to say..." Albus mused to himself as he strode towards the Hospital wing.

* * *

He stood in front of a rather desolate valley, with fires burning of rooftops as lightning tore across the night sky. Enormous amounts of magical energy shot out and struck the rock, throwing up a spray as huge tides washed away thousands of soldiers, killing them, blowing them away as the mages tapped their staves and the ground shook, a testament to the powers of those earth druids who could call the powers of the earth for their aide. And there he was, standing on top of a cliff, one hand holding his familiar yew wand and the other holding a very special wand, one he had received as a bequest from his dear departed brother- a wand, which his brother promised, would help him to do the inevitable.

Blood ran down his arms as his fingers tightened around the two wands- it was time for slaughter. He was the last of the Warmages- slaughter and destruction was in his blood, after all. It was time for the invaders to pay for their sins.

"Peverell, your time has come. Lay down your wand and I will give you a painless death." Andros roared. The battle-hardened mage, with his golden hair flying all around like static electricity, and his hazel eyes shining like two fiery orbs, looked at him and raised his sword. "You will kneel, or you will die."

He smirked as his wands sparked at the tip. Death, Death was an old friend, and Death would not come until he had done his… his duty. After all, there was a reason why he was standing here, despite being chopped off and burnt, only to come back and then, eaten up by a Nundu pack, and yet here he was, ready to fight as if there was no tomorrow.

"I am afraid, Andros. My time has not come. I wonder how many proofs you will need before you believe that. Though, I am afraid, you won't be there to get anymore proofs either…"

Andros laughed. The kind of laugh that sent shudders down the spine. "I suppose you are right… You have a nasty habit of coming back from the dead. Well," he grinned evilly, "it gives me the pleasure of killing you again and again." He raised his sword as he yelled, "Slaughter him to pieces!"

The ancient cloak bellowed all around in the wind, and despite the destructive curses raining down on him, none of them could actually pierce through the ancient cloak. The spells seemed to hit it and then sink into it as if into some eternal void. His hands moved on its own, as if they had gained some sort of sentience as he gave in to his magic- magic against which he had rebelled all his life, magic, which now took in charge of the primal mind that was driving him into battle.

They hurled devastating spells and he transfigured them into rocks and threw them back, his yew wand manifesting firestorms that raged down the valley, burning and obliterating mages every minute. His other wand was more special. Andros hurled a magical outburst and his wand sent up a black fog like substance, engulfing the entire attack into itself before vanishing into nothingness. Power… such tremendous power... the feeling of omnipotence surrounding his mind, the sounds of the explosions singing in his ear as he became Death and danced through the valley, killing off mages right, left and center. The magic had come at a very steep price, and he would be damned if he would fall before the invaders were destroyed…

The dragons and the wyverns belched great flames at him, but his wand procured elemental forms of those creatures, forged out of the mighty Fiendfyre, as they burned the dragons themselves. Tonight the battle would end, for now and forever. The invaders would have to die- there was no other option. After all, he thought with a smile, Death comes for everyone. Some just have a tendency to look for it, and some wield it more efficiently than others did.

Andros lay on the ground, bitter and burnt, his eyes half-accepting the imminent death that was hovering over him… "How… how… what is that power?"

He smiled. "This is the power of the _Master of Death_." He raised both wands towards the heavens as a mighty fork of lightening descended down from the sky and surged down into a humongous power stroke into the earth, the fury of the strike reverberating into the heavens as fifteen-year old Harry James Potter woke up with a start.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am honestly shocked by the response my story has been getting. 1500+ followers and over 500+ reviews in less than a month. I am very flattered. Thank you to each and every one of my readers and reviewers for demonstrating such an interest in my story. I know I do not reply much to the reviews, but i assure you that I read each and every review with great diligence.**


	26. Chapter 26 : Revelations

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Poppy considered the question. "Not good." Seeing the crashed look on Sirius's face, she expounded upon her initial statement. "Potter's core is undergoing some kind of abrupt changes. It is pulsating one moment, morphing the next, it is almost like he is undergoing his magical maturity, but that is impossible since he is only fifteen at the moment."_

 _"He is stronger than most wizards, wouldn't that-?"_

 _"Black, Albus Dumbledore reached his maturity at twenty-one." Poppy hesitated, "besides, even if this is his magical maturity because of some kind of mutation of his magical core under duress, his body is burning. I mean, literally burning. His temperature is way beyond the acceptable limits. I tried to bring him back to consciousness but his magic is rejecting treatment. It is almost like… he is undergoing some kind of metamorphosis."_

 _Sirius looked scared. "He will be alright, right?"_

 _Poppy looked down. "I don't know."_

* * *

Harry opened his eyes, his heart beating so loudly that he could hear them in his ears, beating like war-drums. He got up, rubbed the sweat off his temples, finding the bedsheet completely soaked in his sweat. Feeling the stickiness, he instantly got up to stand back on his feet and-

He fell down face-first on the cold marble floor.

"POTTER!" Poppy gushed as she ran towards him, slowly helping him to pick himself up. "You stupid child, why did you try to get up on your own?"

Harry looked queerly at the school matron for a moment, before he returned, "I had just woke up some time ago and found myself soaked in sweat. It was sticky so I decided to change my dress."

"And you couldn't have called anyone to do that?"

Harry looked at her as if she had grown a second head. "Madam Pomfrey, I know I was tired from the duel, and it made me magically exhausted, but I am completely fit and fine now. In fact, I think that I rather overslept. Is it time for dinner?" He stared at his hands and felt himself- everything looked just fine.

Poppy regarded him carefully. "Potter, the duel happened five days ago. You were unconscious and in a magical coma for five days."

"WHAT?"

* * *

Dumbledore sat in his office, busying himself in the piles of paperwork that was the bane of every educator in the world. At least one good thing had come out of the duel; the devastating show of powerful magic had stilled into everyone's minds what Albus Dumbledore was capable of. While to the trained eye, it was nothing more than just a blunt demonstration of raw magical power, the common masses did take it to mean that there was a reason why Albus Dumbledore was the only one whom the dark lord ever feared. Besides, Harry's own demonstration of magical prowess and raw power had changed the tables, both inside and out of Hogwarts. In one way, it was a good thing that the boy was in a coma for the last five days- at least he was saved from the socio-political turmoil that the duel had caused. People were reconsidering what they knew of Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore, and that had very distinct effects on the population in and out of Hogwarts.

Being a Headmaster had its advantages. One of them was the ability to create portkeys and apparate in and out of Hogwarts. While Fawkes' presence made the fact a moot point, phoenixes were very moody and prideful creatures, and on more than one important event, Fawkes had been unavailable to transport him to his destination. The other fact was that the paintings, the portraits and the house elves, were all answerable to him, or at least, could not disobey a direct order from the Headmaster. That order could only be overridden when the true master of Hogwarts' castle would come up someday, but the origins of the ancient castle were unknown to him. Not even in the very first edition of Hogwarts: A history or in any of the codices left behind by the founders, was there any mention of the family to whom Hogwarts castle actually belonged. The records simply stated that the castle was bequeathed to the founders for the noble pursuit of educating the future generations of the magical community in Magical Britain. However, almost a thousand years had passed, and no one had yet claimed the castle as his or her own, nor had the castle ever displayed any kind of affinity to anyone. Needless to say, it was taken for a fact that the original family had gotten extinct sometime in the ancient past.

His thoughts turned towards the _miracle child_ ; yes, the phrase suited young Harry quite effectively. Despite his mistakes regarding the boy's childhood, the boy had grown up to become a human being better than he could ever be. The boy had been in a coma, and importantly, had been going through his magical maturity, which was surprising since most people had their maturity between twenty-three and twenty-five years of age. It was a concept that the stronger the wizard, the faster his magic would mature. Harry was fifteen and already, he packed enough power to lock him and Voldemort in a power struggle successfully. That spoke volumes about what his power levels would be when he crossed his maturity. It also explained why the boy had displayed such irrationally angry behavior. Magical maturity did that to people- the more powerful they were, the more would the maturity process affect their behavior.

 _Maturity at fifteen… I can only imagine what the boy will be like once he understands how to control and wield all that power. I suppose even Grandmaster Flamel won't be able to stand against him, at least in terms of magical power and brute force._

He thought about how he would explain everything to the boy. No, not boy… young man. After everything he had been though, calling him a child would be an insult to his experience. Perhaps he should come clear with everything, about why did what he did, and what he expected to achieve from his endeavors. Last but not the least, he would have to share the contents of the Prophecy with Harry and then offer him the chance to apprentice under himself. Given how the school was in complete disarray with things going on, and given how Dolores was trying to breath down his and Harry's neck (no matter how unsuccessful), it was clear that the boy would not get the quality education he deserved. He pondered over it. It was almost the end of October now. That meant at least six months before the boy's OWL examination began. Given how the boy's performance in class was, surely it would not be a problem for him to pick up things if he were to be away for say… five months from the scholastic session. He could get the boy privately trained for the five months at the Guild and then continue his training after the holidays begun. It was a sound plan, but first, Harry had to agree with it.

The little statue of a rampaging rhinoceros on the table began to rock up and down suddenly, the animation charm triggered by a certain ward that he had placed in the Hospital wing, precisely, on one single person. He touched the little statue and it stopped instantly, as he stood up from his chair.

 _It seems young Harry has finally woken up. It will be fascinating to see the changes in him, now that he has passed his maturity._

* * *

Harry Potter rested on his bed in the Hospital Wing. Given his propensity to keep on coming to this wing repeatedly over the years, he had scratched his name on one of the beds, claiming it to be his own, not that Poppy minded; after all, he was the one who was strapped on it most of the time. In fact, there had not been even a single year, when he had not stayed at the Hospital wing at least once. Something would happen, and Halloween was a special day on the list of events, and if he missed the Hospital wing by some stroke of fate, the end-of-year near-death experience made it compulsory for him to visit the Hospital wing, he thought, chuckling.

"How are you, my boy?"

Harry looked up from his bed, to find the Headmaster standing at the door, a calm smile on his ancient face. The anger that he had felt in the last week (before falling into a coma, he reminded himself), was strangely missing. His mind felt light, almost as if a huge burden had been removed from his shoulders. The overwhelming sense of rage at the Headmaster was strangely absent.

He nodded his head primly.

Dumbledore invited himself in, quite flamboyantly and helped himself to a seat beside his bed. Taking out a tiny box, he offered it to him, "Lemon drops, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "No, thank you." He said weakly. Although mentally he felt fine, his physical strength seemed to be missing. It was almost as if his body had been rendered weak and incapacitated for some reason.

"I suppose you are feeling weak in your bones. It is quite natural."

Harry raised an eyebrow, and found that it stung a little as well. "What do you mean?"

"Ah," the headmaster exclaimed, popping another of those sickeningly sweet confectionaries, "You see Harry, you just had your magical maturity."

"Magical maturity?" Harry repeated blankly, not being familiar with the term beforehand. "You mean, coming of age? But I was already emancipated when I took the Lordship."

Dumbledore chuckled. "That was a political thing, and has nothing to do with your body or your magic. You see Harry, witches and wizards undergo magical development two times in their entire lives. The first is at the age of five, normally. Some like your friend Neville Longbottom are late bloomers, who show development years later. Then there are some, like you yourself, who develop it much earlier. I believe you were three when you first turned your school-teacher's hairs blue."

Harry blushed at that fact, but then banished the thought, since it was irrevocably linked to his memories with the Dursleys. He just nodded and the Headmaster continued. "As soon as people undergo their first maturity, they demonstrate a voluntary and conscious link to magic. The second maturity however, shows itself when they are twenty-five years of age. However, powerful witches and wizards have been recorded to have their maturity much earlier. I myself, had had my own maturity at twenty-one."

"I am fifteen." Harry spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child. "Surely it wasn't my maturity."

"On the contrary, Harry, it was indeed. Unbridled emotion, lack of self-control, propensity to _allow_ the primal state of mind and _allowing it to overcome_ the logical senses, magical core mutation, magical coma… I am afraid everything does point out to one thing- for some inexplicable reason, you have matured magically and that means- you are magically an adult now. I suppose I should congratulate you."

Harry scowled. "I was very much in control."

"Your last attack on my person was more than capable to destroy half the school, and raze the entire stadium, had I not intercepted and stopped it. If that is staying in control, I suppose Lord Voldemort should take lessons from you." Dumbledore chatted amiably as if talking about the weather.

"It was?" Harry asked- the pain in his bones forgotten.

"What do you remember?"

Harry closed his eyes. His memory was a bit shifty at the moment. "I remember- I remember getting angry and then- I was almost _out_ of power, and then-" he looked confused,"- I think I got some more power and I cast-" He turned towards Dumbledore. "I can't remember."

"Not a problem, Harry. Your memories will return to you shortly. Your mind has been... overhauled, for lack of a better term." He smiled as he continued, "For your information, it is good that the spell you used is classified as family magic. A word of advice from a battle-transfiguration expert Harry, _never_ use that spell in public."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I don't even remember what I cast."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, the spell you cast was once known as the Fury of Death, a powerful and ancient battle spell, and I am not going to ask how you came across it, but the spell kind of, makes an unforgivable curse look like a bluebell flames charm."

Harry widened his eyebrows. "I cast- an unforgivable?"

"No. You did not. You cast something, much, much powerful and devastating. That spell can be cast with only one objective in mind. _Destroy the opponent, no matter, what it takes, even the caster's own life._ It is almost fascinating that you had enough hatred in you to be able to even cast the spell, let alone _wandlessly._ I am not sure whether I should feel devastated or exhilarated that I had done something to conjure that much hate in you."

"So… will I be sent to Azkaban for that?"

"Dear Merlin, no." Albus chuckled. "As I said, that spell is unknown to almost everyone, except those familiar with the ancient lores of magic. Not something, the Ministry or the Aurors would know. They took it as family magic. However, I am worried if you _still_ have that level of hate against me."

"I feel great at the moment though." Harry replied, his expression almost cheerful. "Except the slight itching and pain in my bones."

Dumbledore smiled. "Good to know. My boy, do you remember the terms of the duel?"

Harry closed his eyes, trying to reconnect with his memories. It felt a little easier this time. "Yes," he said with a scowl, "-now I have to listen to whatever it is that you want to tell me."

Dumbledore relaxed comfortably on his chair. "Yes, and after I am done explaining, you are free to act as you like. You may decide to have to do nothing with Britain or me for the rest of your life, and I will not stop you. You may decide to call me your enemy and I will not stop you then either. However, I am hoping that you will listen to my reasons and find it in your heart to forgive me and move forward."

Harry shrugged. "I don't really have an option, do I?"

"Well, yes, you do. You can decide to spend some time with the lovely Miss Greengrass, who has made it a schedule to visit you to five times a day between her classes- and then talk with me when you are comfortable."

"Let us be done with it at the moment." Harry returned, trying to lift his hands. "As it is, even if I get angry, at least I'm not in a position to destroy the Hospital wing, not that I want to face Madam Pomfrey's wrath after that." He chuckled.

Dumbledore raised his wand, manifesting a privacy dome around them. Harry noticed that it was different from the one he had seen previously. "Professor, what happened to your-"

"My wand? Well this is my original wand. That one, well—it is a long story, one I'm sure you will get to know in the near future." He paused, "I must say, that to use one's original wand after so long, the feeling is indeed peculiar. Nostalgic, in a way."

Harry wanted to ask why the Headmaster had chosen another wand over his own then, but he kept it to himself. Dumbledore continued, "Before we begin, Harry, I wish to say something." He raised his wand and whispered, "I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, swear on my life and magic, that I have never tried to harm Harry Potter, and my intention had always centered on his own good. So I swear, so mote it be." A flash of blue washed over the old man's person, leaving Harry Potter shell-shocked.

"What was that for?" He asked, almost anxiously.

"That was my… insurance, because I am afraid things are going to get murky and heated from now on." Dumbledore replied simply. Harry nodded.

"I suppose it has been in your mind about how I _bought_ your best friends, and they _sold_ out your privacy to me."

A rush of anger flooded into Harry' mind, not that the way Dumbledore had described it helped matters. "Yes." He replied stiffly.

Dumbledore sighed. "It was an experiment. And a necessary evil."

Harry did not reply.

"I am the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. If I decided that a group of students would be introduced to the members of the Order, it meant that the group of students would be introduced and included into the Order, eventually. As leader, it was my duty to check the true loyalties of the members from time to time. I may not look like it, but do not think me as a dotty old man who keeps on trusting everyone at face value. One does not hold the Chief Warlock's position for fifty years with that attitude." He paused, "I have always played my cards close to the chest, keeping the members operating at a bare minimum and have tested them relentlessly under different circumstances, making sure they are ignorant of the fact."

Harry nodded.

"Ever since I learnt that it was Pettigrew and not Sirius, I had to put on this enforcer attitude even more, knowing it from experience that an inside man can always betray you. Ronald and Miss Granger, they were tested. Miss Granger, while she is innately a good person, suffers from this thing, which I believe young people of your age like to refer to as being a ' _teacher's pet'_ , characterized by an inherent propensity to trust in authority. Not a bad thing, but she needs to set her priorities straight. It could very well be someone imposing as me, and she would spew out all your secrets without a thought. The fact that she was so willing to choose her faith in authority over your friendship, is not something I condone, but as I said, that doesn't stop me from gaining information when it comes to me."

Harry looked at him with an expressionless demeanor.

"Ronald, on the other hand, makes me question why you, this eleven-year-old just had to be friends with him. Why couldn't you have been friends with someone like Mister Longbottom, or any other student from the other houses? I am sure you know how much petty jealousy inspires young Ronald's actions. The Triwizard should have been a giveaway in that case."

Harry did not reply.

"You can think me as evil and manipulating, and I won't blame you if you decide to hold me responsible. All I want is to make you ask this question to yourself- what does it say about your best friends if all it takes is a person of authority to come up, and they sell out all your secrets?"

Harry stayed silent.

"I know you said you do not care about the Prophecy, and I will go and wager a guess that you believe that I wanted to make you some kind of martyr, but as my oath goes, nothing I ever did had _any_ kind of harmful intentions towards your person. If you wish to discuss the Prophecy with me, I will not be disagreeable to it. After all you have been through, I suppose you deserve it and some more."

"I-I understand what you are saying and what you are trying to tell me, but it doesn't make you innocent." Harry countered.

"I never said I was, Harry." The twinkling eyes were gone, and were replaced by stern blue eyes of a man who had fought too many wars for too long. "As I said, you might just decide to give in to your anger and blame me for everything, if that is what you wish to do. However, given the amount of resourcefulness you have demonstrated, I would have preferred it if you would accept my one last offer."

"And what is that?"

"An apprenticeship, in the arte of battle-transfiguration, under the Transfiguration Masters Guild." He paused, "My apprentice."

"Your- apprentice." Harry uttered slowly.

"My apprentice."

Harry paused, registering what it meant in his mind. "What does that entail?"

"Well," Dumbledore began, "the first thing it does is that it grants you a transfer from Hogwarts to the Transfiguration Masters Guild. You will _not_ be a Hogwarts student any more. Yes, that means that you will not be staying at Hogwarts for the rest of your fifth year, at least as a student. I intend to take you to the Guild and help you hone your abilities under the tutelage of a variety of Masters who are, shall we say, accomplished in their skills, and will teach you how to successfully hone that power you have in your fingertips."

Harry considered it. It would be foolish to think that he would be able to hone all of his abilities by self-practice and self-study from the grimoire. This was his chance of actually learning how to develop his skills, and from what the Headmaster said, be in the tutelage of powerful and learned Masters. It would be a folly to lose such an opportunity. Even if he did not like what the Headmaster had done to him, his Slytherin side told him that letting such an opportunity go just because of his anger would be an incredibly foolish thing to do. However-

"What about my OWLS?"

The Headmaster gave him a _'don't-be-stupid'_ look, and explained, "My inference from speaking to your professors is that if you were to sit for your OWLS at this moment, you would pass out with at least an EE. I have no doubt that you could carry on studying for your OWLS privately should you want it." He paused, "if it is any better, you will be back in Hogwarts by the beginning of April. That should give you enough time for the OWLS which are held in May."

"So I will be away for…" he did a quick count, "-five months?"

"If you accept the offer, yes. Of course, you will have to be back with the Guild during from July, once again. "It will grant you a month to spend time with family and Miss Greengrass."

His mind went back to his betrothed. "If I am gone, that means her train-" he stopped midway, realizing that he was almost about to mention it to Dumbledore- "I mean, what about her?"

"Well," Dumbledore looked thoughtful, "I suppose you could come to Hogwarts now and then every two weeks or something, and spend some time with your betrothed. The Guild isn't that allowing but I suppose we will be able to get something to make that possible."

Harry nodded.

"Am I to consider that you are agreeing to this?"

"I- I need some time to reflect on it."

"Of course, take your time. I will wait for your answer tomorrow evening, after dinner."

Harry nodded.

"I know I have wronged you, my boy. However, I hope, we will be able to look beyond that and work together. As it is, Voldemort is going to come after you repeatedly, and this is your chance to be the best you can be. I may be powerful, but that does not make me any younger. It is a pity I never shared my extensive knowledge with anyone. I hope that this is the chance I have to make sure that my knowledge and skills are passed into- _'more capable'_ hands. _Won't you take the chance?"_

Harry nodded. "I will give an answer tomorrow after dinner."

"That is all I ask." Dumbledore got up, as he vanished the privacy dome. "Rest Harry, you will need it."

* * *

 **Some hours later…**

"What do you think I should do, Sirius?"

Sirius considered the question. While on one hand, he wanted nothing to do with Albus Dumbledore; on the other hand, he knew that this was a chance of a lifetime. Very few people were lucky enough to acquire a Guild's attention, and to be offered an invitation, it was like Christmas come early.

"I think you should take it."

"You do?"

"Yes." Sirius looked as if he had just swallowed a bitter pill. "The coot is right—this is your best chance, to actually hone all that power you have under your fingertips. There is only so much you could do with self-study and practice. The Masters in Guilds have access to ancient scrolls of magic, magic lost to the modern world for centuries- the Masters are highly accomplished mages and you will have a chance to learn powerful magic, just like the ones in your grimoires. I say, grab it."

Harry nodded.

"Are you thinking about your would-be betrothed?" Sirius urged.

Nod.

"I say you talk with her about this. I am sure she will agree that you should take the offer. Besides, it will only increase your popularity if you are a member of a Guild. I am sure Miss Greengrass is Slytherin enough to recognize a political opportunity when it comes."

Harry looked at him. "Sirius, do you think- think that this… betrothed thing was a little too quick?"

"Why would you say so?"

"It's like… we barely know each other that way. All we have been is… dueling partners."

"Well," Sirius drawled, "I think you should just accept it and move on. I believe that despite Miss Greengrass's political machinations, she is a good choice for a wife."

"And why?"

"Well for starters, she has got a killer rack."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "While I know I should be pummeling your face with my fists for checking my would-be-betrothed out, I can't help but ask- you want me to marry her because she has a huge breasts? I think I understand why your animagus form is a dog."

Sirius guffawed. "Someday godson. Someday, you will appreciate the true worth of a killer rack." Harry whipped his wand out as Sirius transformed into a dog and jumped out of the way.

"You can run but you can't hide, Sirius. I can walk, now." He got up from the bed, using a cane for support as he did. Padfoot gave a bark of appreciation as he dodged another stinging hex Harry sent his way.

"HOOOT!"

Instantly, Harry threw his wand on the bed and raised his hands on top of his head in defense as a pretty snowy owl dive-bombed at him. She flapped her wings angrily and smacked him in the head with her talons, biting into his shoulder as she carried her relentless offense.

"Hey! Stop it, Hed! Oww! That hurts!" He did not however, try to stop her forcefully as he simply put his arms over his face and head, trying to escape from her wrath. The owl seemed satisfied by her chastisement of her dumbass two-legged pet and after an elegant pause, slowly extended a limb at him.

A parchment.

Harry slowly raised his fingers, ignored the sharp pain as Hedwig bit into his finger, but he ignored it as he pulled the parchment from her limb and unfurled it. It was a missive from Gringotts, and especially Nagnok. That would have explained why Hedwig had brought it to him. Gringotts had a charm set up that would attract the receiver's owl towards them, and then they would tie the letter and sent the animal back. It made sure that the missives were not lost because of family wards or anything of that sort.

 _Must be something about those tests he mentioned._

"Sirius, we need to go to Gringotts."

"What? What about Miss Greengrass?" Sirius asked, surprised at the change of plan.

"Later. We need to go to Gringotts, now. This is about…. You know what…"

"Right." Sirius did not need any more convincing. "I don't suppose you should apparate in this condition. I suppose we could Floo in there."

"Mcgonagall's office has a workable Floo. We could use that." Harry returned.

"You are going nowhere, Harry Potter," asserted an irate Madam Pomfrey. Harry and Sirius glanced at her in surprise and then he explained, "Madam Pomfrey, this is urgent. Besides, I am having no trouble walking, you see." He walked a couple of steps back and forth to prove his point.

"And what is so damned important that you cannot wait for a day?"

"Family business." Sirius deadpanned, leaving no room for argument.

Poppy gave him an annoyed stare, and then sighed. "Well if you must, then I suppose you can Floo from here instead. There is no reason why you should walk three floors to take the Floo from Minerva's office."

Harry shrugged. Sirius nodded.

Poppy sighed. She walked up to the fireplace, took out a small vial containing Floo powder, and forwarded it to Sirius. "Where to?"

"Gringotts." Sirius replied.

"Of course." Poppy replied briskly. "Make sure that, _that one_ stays intact, else I am blaming you."

Sirius swallowed. "Of course, Poppy."

* * *

 **Sometime later in the office of Chief Shaman…**

"Thank you for coming at such short notice," Nagnok expressed. "I am afraid I am not familiar with your friend." He cast a pointed glance at Sirius.

Harry coughed. "This is Sirius Orion Black, my sworn godfather and now my adopted father." Sirius gave a formal nod at the goblin, who jerked his head.

"Ah, yes, I had read about your being the Head of another ancient family. I must say, young Lord, you are quite an interesting person."

"My tests," Harry began, "you mentioned that there were some things you got to know?"

Nagnok nodded. "Straight to business then, very well. Yes, I found something, very interesting about you in the tests. In fact, I dare say that you are the _most interesting_ client I have ever had."

Harry lurched a little at the off-handed comment. "What do you mean?"

Nagnok smiled, the sharp teeth protruding out of his lips as the grin became a lot scarier. He took out a bundle of reports and gave a quick look at them. "There is quite a lot I have been able to figure out from the... samples you left behind, but first, let me ask you this."

He paused.

"Tell me, young Lord, do you know what a _horcrux_ is?"

The reaction was instant. Sirius's demeanor suddenly turned feral as he whipped his wand out. "Why would you know about such an abomination?" He hissed. Nagnok observed his behavior and considered the imminent threat upon his person. "Mister Black," he returned calmly, "if you do not put that wand back into your robe within the next ten seconds, I assure you that Ancient family or not, you _will_ spend the rest of your life working in the underground caverns with the rest of the prisoners. I assure you it is not a happy life."

Harry hissed at him, and Sirius instantly placed the wand back into his robes. "Harry- you don't understand- that thing is—is-"

"Wizards and their hypocrisy." Nagnok commented off-handedly, as he turned his attention to Harry who seemed to be puzzled. "I take it that you are ignorant of such a term?"

"Yes." Harry confessed.

"Hmm..." Nagnok paused, "to be precise, young Lord, a horcrux is simply a piece of soul, extracted from a person under his consent, stored in a… _container_ , shall we say… thereby granting the person a form of immortality."

"Okay." Harry was not sure what to say.

"Until the moment a horcrux survives, there is absolutely no way that said person could die completely. No matter how many times said person is killed or... _Destroyed_ , he will keep on surviving, and can always be _resurrected_ back into mortal form."

"You mean that Volde-"

"Yes."

It was shocking. That meant that unless Voldemort's horcruxes were destroyed, Voldemort was immortal. Not that _killing_ him was an easy thing anyway."

"What has that got to do with Harry?" Sirius asked, keeping the awe and shock away from his voice.

"Mister Potter, as it seems, housed a horcrux for _thirteen_ years, until one _Avada Kedavra_ nipped it out of him. Precisely, _the_ Avada Kedavra that hit him in the graveyard. Mister Potter, I assume you are keeping up?"

Harry's hand automatically went up to his scar.

"Yes, that was it, though to be technical, the scar was only the _manifestation_ of the fact that you were holding a horcrux that was leaching into your soul and your magic for all these years. The moment you were freed of it, the scar began to fade, and as I can clearly see, it is just another normal scar, albeit one that I confess will stay for as long as you live."

"So Harry is free of the horcrux- Voldemort's horcrux?" Sirius stammered.

"The night he came for me-" Harry muttered, more to himself than to others, "—something happened and his body was destroyed. I assume that was how-"

"A part of _his soul broke_ and leached into you, yes. However, that is _not_ the important part."

Harry and Sirius blanched, staring at Nagnok as if he had grown three heads.

"What else could be more important than that?" Sirius accused, half in shock and half in confusion.

Nagnok scowled as he regarded Harry once again. "Let me walk you through the sequence of the night. Using divination and arcane arts that you have no reason knowing, I was able to draw out a perfect conclusion of what happened that night." He got up from the chair, as he walked towards Harry.

"The dark lord entered into your cottage, killed your father in a short and hardly significant duel, and then proceeded to climb up the stairs in search of you and your mother. He found both of you and then- your mother offered him her own life if he agreed to let you live."

 _ **Not Harry! Not Harry! Please kill me instead! Take me instead! Please not Harry!**_

"The dark lord offered her a chance to move out of the way, which in itself is confusing, since your mother was a muggleborn and the dark lord despised muggleborns. Yet, he gave her the chance to stand away, not once, not twice, but three times…."

 _ **Stand aside, silly girl! Stand aside…**_

"But even on the third chance, your mother did not change her wish. She was willing to sacrifice her life."

 _ **Last chance! Stand aside and I will let you live…**_

 _ **Please not Harry! Kill me instead!**_

Nagnok paused. "And then he fired the killing curse."

Sirius was looking pale, his knuckles white. Harry's face was expressionless as he was reliving the scene he could see whenever the Dementors were near him.

 _ **Avada Kedavra!**_

"There are _three_ basic requirements for the creation of a horcrux. One, the murder has to be done in _cold blood_. You _cannot_ kill someone in anger and make a horcrux out of the process."

Silence.

"Two. The person to be sacrificed, or should I say... killed, must be a _willing_ participant, for the horcrux to be formed."

 _ **Please kill me! Not Harry!**_

"Three. It is _impossible_ for a _human being_ to be turned into a horcrux."

Silence.

"Excuse me….I think I might have heard you wrong, but did you just say that it is impossible for a human being to be turned into a horcrux?" Sirius asked. Harry just sat quietly, trying to warp his head around the contradictory facts.

"Yes. I believe I did."

"And you also said that Harry was a- was a horcrux?"

"Right again."

Sirius just stared at him blankly.

"Let me explain." Nagnok raised his hands to settle them. "A human being, by definition, is someone that houses a complete, unadulterated soul. The power of a full-complete soul is not to be underestimated. In case a foreign, _whole_ spirit decides to possess a person, what actually happens is that the foreign spirit actually drains the power of the original soul and tries to throw it out of the body. The only exception is when the host is a _willing_ one, in which case, the resident soul and the possessing spirit both occupy the body, which-I must state- being _unable_ to have enough magical power to house _two_ souls instead of one, begins to rot away. Such a willing possession withers away and dies soon. I assume Mister Potter here would agree with me, given how he has seen such a thing happen first hand."

Harry thought of how Quirrel had withered away, and how he had to wear a turban filled with garlic to hide the stench of his rotting body.

"What if the host is unwilling?" Sirius asked.

"If the host is unwilling, Mister Black, then there are two outcomes. Either the possession is unsuccessful in which case; the host soul throws the foreign spirit, usually after a struggle with the possessing spirit. Or, in case the host is _not strong enough_ , the possessing spirit will likely drain the host soul out of the body."

"Drain it where?" Harry spoke out for the first time, wishing his deepest fears be proved wrong.

"Either into the astral dimension, which is to say… afterlife in a way, if the soul decides to pass on, or perhaps it can remain back as a ghost. The other alternative would be to put the host soul into some form of container…. Though the power of the container to hold a resisting soul should be quite large."

 _Like Riddle's dairy. Riddle was pouring his own soul into Ginny, and sending hers slowly into the diary. Had I not stopped him, Riddle would be in control of Ginny's body and Ginny would have been trapped inside the diary forever! Merlin!_

Nagnok eyed him for some reason. "Mister Potter? Are you following?"

"Yes... Yes I am."

"But that doesn't explain why Harry-"

"Mister Black, has anyone ever mentioned it to you that a little patience is a skill to have?" Nagnok snapped.

That shut Sirius up.

"Since it is established that it is not possible for two souls to reside in one body without any detrimental effects, I believe it should be clear why a human being cannot be made into a horcrux."

No one said anything to refute that.

"Now we come to the final and perhaps, the most interesting point. Mister Harry Potter, who for some reason, housed a horcrux all these years without any kind of distinct effect on his person- physically, mentally, magically and psychologically." He paused. He turned to Harry and gave him a scary expression. "The reason for that is that, Mister Potter was _not_ born with a _complete_ soul."

Harry and Sirius looked towards him so sharply that he almost feared they had snapped their necks. "What I mean is, the incomplete nature of Mister Potter's soul gave the horcrux a …. _Space_ , for lack of a better word, to co-exist when the dark lord created a horcrux unwillingly while killing the late Mrs. Potter." He regarded Harry warily. "In short, Mister Potter, you were _born_ to be a horcrux."


	27. Chapter 27 : End of a phase

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _"Now we come to the final and perhaps, the most interesting point. Mister Harry Potter, who for some reason, housed a horcrux all these years without any kind of distinct effect on his person- physically, mentally, magically and psychologically." He paused. He turned to Harry and gave him a scary expression. "The reason for that is that, Mister Potter was not born with a complete soul."_

 _Harry and Sirius looked towards him so sharply that he almost feared they had snapped their necks. "What I mean is, the incomplete nature of Mister Potter's soul gave the horcrux a ….space, for lack of a better word, to co-exist when the dark lord created a horcrux unwillingly while killing the late Mrs. Potter." He regarded Harry warily. "In short, Mister Potter, you were born to be a horcrux."_

* * *

"I was-born to be a -horcrux?"

"So it seems, Mister Potter." Nagnok replied amiably, as if talking about the weather.

"And- what does that make me?"

"Oh I'm sorry. Let me repeat myself. You were born with an incomplete soul. The empty space hosted a part of the dark lord's horcrux, which was destroyed when you were hit by the killing curse on the night of the third task. Once again, after that incident, you were living with an incomplete soul. Didn't your nightmares begin after the third task?"

Harry nodded, still in absolute shock.

"That settles it. For some reason, _something_ happened during the fight, and more specifically, after you were hit by the killing curse. Something that changed something about you, gave you access to all this information that you find pumping into your mind now and then. Something that caused you to cast a Fidelius and part with some of your memories during the fight, and gave you wandless powers. Unfortunately, what that something was or is, I cannot say."

Harry was confused whether to look surprised or disappointed.

"There is one thing I can say, however. When you entered this room, it scanned you once again, and my inference says that for some reason, your soul is now complete and whole- _Not an amalgamation_ , but you and yours. By some weird process, _you have been able to find out the broken fragment of your own soul and merge them together_."

"WHAT?" Sirius and Harry cried out in unison. Nagnok cringed at the increased sound but continued. "Let me rephrase that. Something happened between the time you stepped out of this room and the time you stepped back here. Something that somehow, _brought you in contact with your own soul, merging it with your own_ , and now, you have your own, _whole_ soul."

"Tell me if I am wrong." Sirius began, and for the first time, Nagnok did not take offense. "Harry was born with an incomplete soul."

Nod.

"The empty space housed a horcrux all these years and after he got hit with another killing curse, he is now having an _incomplete soul again_."

Nod.

"That was the point from when I started having these nightmares." Harry dropped in.

"Point." Sirius agreed. "Then you came up here and then, your nightmares stopped?"

Harry nodded.

"Excuse me, your nightmares stopped _immediately_ after you came here?" Nagnok pressed.

"Yeah." Harry replied.

"Can you remember anything, anything at all, that had happened _after_ you left this room?"

"Yeah, after that I just went to take my Lordship and the-" Harry's eyes widened as his eyes turned saucers, staring at Nagnok. "The wand."

"The wand?" Sirius repeated.

"The wand," Harry gushed, bringing his wand out and placing it on the table. "This is a family wand. I got it inside my Family Vault and I felt some kind of energy rushing into me when I touched- but that isn't possible is it, since this wand has been supposedly been in the family for over fifteen generations."

"That's impossible." Sirius snapped.

Harry turned to him. "What?"

"Fifteen generations- that is impossible. Your family- your grandfather and your father told me a lot when I lived with your dad at Potter Manor. You are the fifteenth generation descendant. It is impossible that this wand has been more than fifteen generations long."

"I respectfully disagree." Nagnok intervened.

"Excuse me?" Sirius deadpanned. "I lived with the Potters for over three years."

"I'm not disagreeing with your information. I am simply disagreeing with its authenticity. Every family is descended from some older family or tribe. The Potters have also descended from an older, and much more ancient family known as the-"

"Peverell. Potters are descendants of the Peverells."

"Correct." Nagnok surmised.

"How did you know that?" Sirius asked.

"Part of the information?" Nagnok urged, and Harry nodded. "I thought so." He stared at Harry for a moment and asked, "Mister Potter, may I see this… _family wand_?"

Harry extended his hand and handed the wand to Nagnok. The old goblin held the wand reverentially and began to mutter some strange incantations in the goblin tongue. The wand glowed with an ethereal glow for a moment before the sheen dissipated. "Just as expected, it has had exposure to soul magic."

He lifted his hands in a Dumbledoresque fashion and urged, "Tell me, Mister Potter, do you believe in _reincarnation_?"

"Excuse me?" Harry deadpanned.

"By my understanding, I have a hypothesis. I understand that it might sound seriously mind boggling but it is all I have."

"Okay."

"Here it goes. Someone… Peverell, let's call him Peverell since that was the original family-" Nagnok observed how Harry widened his eyes in shock but did not comment- "So this Peverell by some fashion, stores a part of his soul inside a wand, let us assume his own wand, since that would make much more sense. How he did that, is beyond us but never mind-" he paused, "- two millennium years later, he is reborn, but since by the astral laws, only one form of a soul can independently exist at any point of time, he is born with the rest of his soul." He regarded Harry warily. "You."

"Me?" Harry asked, shocked at the revelation.

Nagnok did not confirm. "What's next? Because of the incomplete nature of the soul, the new broken soul houses a horcrux for years until it is free and unrestrained. Then," he paused, "it comes in contact with the wand and the two parts merge together to form the complete, untarnished soul."

"Wait, this cannot be possible." Sirius barked. "Can it?"

Harry did not reply. His mind was racing far ahead. All those memories, all those strategies and ancient spells that seemed to just materialize into his mind out of nowhere and he would use those spells as if he had been using them for years- it all began to fall into pieces together. He closed his eyes as his mind reflected back on the dream…. The battle… the massacre…

 _ **This is the power of the Master of Death…**_

He took his wand back and looked at it. It was strange, how the wand felt so very familiar to him, more than his phoenix wand had ever felt…almost as if he had been using it for years. It all made sense. Could it really be possible?

"Peverell." He muttered softly, not feeling the stares that the old goblin and Sirius were giving him. He looked up. "Well, it doesn't change things, does it? My soul is now complete and-" he widened his eyes as a thought flitted through his mind- "do you think that it is the broken piece that has been giving me all that information?"

Nagnok shrugged. "Could be. It is beyond my expertise to test that. All I can say is, the more you practice and study ancient magic, the more you will get access to your old knowledge. At least that is my opinion."

Harry and Sirius looked at each other. It seemed that Fate herself was pushing him towards the Transfiguration Guild. "I think I have an idea about how to do that." He replied at last.

Nagnok nodded in appreciation. "I will continue to look into the matter, at my discretion. If I find anything else, I will be sure to inform you."

The two wizards got up clumsily, shocked and shaken by the revelations, and bid the goblin farewell. "Perhaps Mister Potter," Nagnok replied with a parting thought, "you should visit your family Vault. Who knows, maybe you could get some more answers to your questions."

Harry looked back at the old goblin. "My answers lead to more questions. I suppose I can leave the quest for some time."

"As you wish, young Lord, farewell. May you do the Warmages proud…"

Harry nodded.

* * *

The two wizards walked out from the Chief Shaman's chamber, into the outer compound where the portkey, apparation and Floo points were located. Getting to the Floo, Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Anything wrong, godson?"

Harry tried to gather his thoughts together. "Sirius, this reincarnation and soul thing, I want to keep it secret. From everybody. I think it would be best if we took a secrecy oath about it."

"Are you sure?"

Harry nodded. Sirius took out his wand as Harry whipped his one out. Casting a semi-circular arc, they chanted the secrecy oath in whispers, not wanting to attract any kind of attention. The oath took effect and a blue sheen radiated out from both of them. Casting a privacy ward, Sirius replied, "This… this changes things, Harry. First the family wand, then all those abilities and now this reincarnation thing. Feels weird to think that you might actually be your father and grandfather's I-don't-know-how-many-great's-ancestor."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Doesn't matter, Sirius. They were still my dad and granddad, though I am still wondering about that picture—you know- I had thought that something about this would link with the picture, but- I don't know what to think." He paused. "Even if we agree that this thing, this reincarnation stuff is real, it happened two thousand years ago. That painting was made some forty years ago. I have no idea how to explain that."

"To be very frank, all these reincarnation stuff is creeping the shit out of me. I just want some… normality I guess. Sheesh! Never thought I would ever be involved in such creepy stuff." Sirius looked ill.

"I understand..." Harry returned. "Let's return to school. As it is, I am going to accept Dumbledore's offer anyway. I suppose I should spend some time at Hogwarts before I take off for long."

"Right."

"Where is this Guild, Sirius?"

"Nobody knows, Harry. Every Magical Guild is protected by powerful defenses and anonymity charms like the Fidelius. Only the Masters and the apprentices know about the actual locations."

"Right." Harry returned, "Let's get going."

* * *

 **An hour later…**

"So, you are going off to be tutored at the Transfiguration guild?" Daphne asked slowly.

Nod.

"And you will be away for five months?"

Nod.

"Okay."

"Daphne, I- I know that according to our agreement, I am supposed to tutor you and I should stay here and be with my would-be-betrothed, and now this-"

"It's okay."

Harry glanced at her sharply. "It is?"

Daphne nodded. "Harry- I know that we don't love each other, and that this-this betrothal, is more of a political alliance than a personal relationship, but I understand. While my Slytherin self doesn't agree to the fact that my would-be is going away, leaving me alone to handle with things at Hogwarts; I am not blind to the political connections you will likely build in future through your connections at the Guild."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Daphne- I am going there to learn-"

"Battle-transfiguration, yes. However, you need to understand that to be a member of a Guild is being a member in the Elite group of wizards and witches that hold the true power in the magical world. I suppose you also do not know that every Master of a Guild holds a seat at the ICW?"

Harry shook his head. Daphne laughed heartily, ruffing his hairs with her hand. "Despite all your power, you are politically a dunce, my would-be-husband." She closed upon him as their lips met. After a brief kiss, she looked up at him. "I will manage. Besides, you will have much more to teach me when you return."

"Are you sure all you want me to do is teach?" Harry asked seductively.

"Well," Daphne purred, "maybe my future husband could teach me newer ways of getting pleasure out of things as well." She closed in as Harry held her face and kissed her deeply. Daphne pressed into him as they snogged each other. Finally, the two separated as Daphne looked up at him in the eye. "I may not be in love with you, but I like you, and I like this time we spend together."

"I am starting to think the same." Harry iterated.

"Hogwarts is going to be different without you." She confessed. "This year, it has all been about you. First I spent my time searching for you, then we trained together and then all of that- it is going to be different without you being here."

"Think of the DA." Harry retorted amusedly. "Granger went to such limits to gather the DA, and now I won't be at Hogwarts to teach them at all."

"What about those oaths then?"

"Well…" Harry tried to sound as casual as he could, "-the resident bookworm did not put that in the oath. Therefore, I suppose that the oath is going to hold, as it should. Perhaps when I return from my training, I can hold a couple of sessions."

"So thoughtful." Daphne mocked. "Are you sure you weren't made for Hufflepuff?"

"Nope. Always Slytherin." Harry kissed her again.

* * *

 **That evening… before dinner…**

"Come in, Harry."

The door to the Headmaster's office opened up and Harry Potter stepped in. Dumbledore relaxed back into his chair as he observed the young man in front of him. "Come in, take a seat." He offered.

"I must say," he folded his hands in typical fashion, resting his hands on the table over his elbows with his chin held by his palms crossed into each other, "I did not expect you in my office before tomorrow evening. Specifically, after dinner."

"I have decided to take you up on your offer." Harry replied. There was no point in dancing around the entire thing.

"Oh." Dumbledore looked a little surprised. "Well, that is quite a good surprise. Any special reason why you did not want to wait till tomorrow?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't like to waste time."

"Right," Dumbledore nodded, "though I should inform you, Harry. You cannot traverse the Guild at night wearing your cloak as you do at Hogwarts. The rules are enforced very strictly over there."

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible, Headmaster." Harry returned, smirking inwardly that he had just used the Headmaster's own words against him. "I will just use a disillusionment charm this time."

Dumbledore shook his head amusedly and continued. "Very well. I suppose I can use this opportunity to make an open statement in the Great Hall."

"Statement?" Harry inquired.

"Why yes! _Harry Potter_ is leaving Hogwarts for a Transfiguration Guild. This is big news. I would rather tell everyone about it in advance than deal with the political repercussions of not revealing this news before you leave. Just be ready to withstand the madness that is going to follow with my statement."

Harry almost smirked. Almost.

"Well, let's go. It's time for dinner."

* * *

 **The Great Hall…**

Every eye turned to the staff table as Albus Dumbledore, wearing jet-black robes entered the Hall from the antechamber. It was quite a change from the usual flamboyant style that he preferred. Whispers from 'senility' to 'change of fashion' to 'something important' to 'imperiused' floated among the student population as Albus Dumbledore walked across the room and took his seat among the teachers.

The Headmaster stood up and addressed the audience. "I'm sure everyone must be wondering about my… rather distinctive change of attire, but worry not; I have merely worn this special and traditional robe for a _special_ occasion today. You shall be getting your headmaster in flamboyant robes from tomorrow once again." Chuckling ensured throughout the Hall.

"Allow me to introduce you to the Transfiguration Masters Guild. I myself am an accomplished Master, having apprenticed under my former Master Thüringen for years before acquiring my own Mastery. This Guild has the distinction of having the most accomplished Transfiguration Masters and Mistresses the magical world has ever seen. Tonight, one of our own is going to officially leave Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to formally join the Transfiguration Masters Guild as a willing accomplice and train under the revered Masters there." He paused.

"I am of course, talking about Harry James Potter."

Every eye turned towards the antechamber as Harry James Potter walked in, dressed in immaculate black robes, ostensibly similar to the one Dumbledore was dressed in. They even looked kind of, Master and apprentice. His dress lacked the Gryffindor colors and instead, the thin film of armor over the black robes made him look quite formidable, and knowing what everyone knew from the duel, it enhanced his persona as someone not to be trifled with.

"Harry?" Hermione could not resist. "Harry is leaving Hogwarts?" She yelled out, distracting everyone else.

"Yes, Miss Granger. I have formally taken in Mister Potter as my official apprentice, and hence effective immediately, Mister Potter is awarded a formal transfer from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to the reverential Transfiguration Master's Guild with a certificate of good behavior and considerable achievements to back his educational background. We wish him the best in life." Dumbledore ended the formal statement as the entire staff table began applauding, a reaction that was mimicked by everyone in the Great Hall.

"What about his OWLS?" Hermione asked, rather loudly.

"Mister Potter has decided to self-study for his OWLS, and has requested an intensive teaching program at the end of the session to clear his doubts before the OWLS." Dumbledore answered, while Harry just remained silent, observing everyone's reaction.

"Typical!" Malfoy commented snidely. "Potter always gets partial treatment." Unfortunately, for him, no one agreed this time, much to his consternation. Ever since the duel, everyone in Slytherin had changed his or her idea about Potter. The Dark Lord might be back, but there was no way any of them wanted to get on Potter's bad side, not if the fifteen-year-old could give Albus Dumbledore a tough fight.

"He is not of age." Commented Zacharias Smith. Besides, the Guild takes in people who are magically adults. There is no way Potter could go in as one."

"Mister Potter just had his magical maturity after the duel." Dumbledore replied, astonishing everyone. "That magically classifies him as an adult. Since he is formally emancipated as Lord Potter and Black, there are no such issues." He paused. "Is there anyone else that has any issues with Mister Potter's selection and subsequent transfer? If you do, speak now or forever hold your peace." It was a tradition for an apprentice to be cleared of all charges and accusations before he could be formally accepted into the Guild. Since Harry was his apprentice, it was his duty to make sure it happened.

"No? Very well. I Albus Dumbledore, declare Harry James Potter to be of sound mind and character and transfer him to the Transfiguration Masters Guild with appreciation. So I have said, so mote it be." A bluish sheen radiated out of him as his formal statement took place and was accepted by Magic. Instantly, Harry's robes materialized into formal apprentice robes with the banner of a hippogriff with two swords in the background, on his right.

"Thank you." Harry replied finally. He walked up and sat on the Gryffindor table and Dumbledore continued. "Mister Potter will be finally leaving the school premises tomorrow at noon. Till then, he will be occupying a place in Gryffindor tower."

No one objected to that.

"Now that I am done with the notices, let's get down for the meal. Thank you." He sat down and instantly, the four House tables were flooded with the dishes.

"Hey Harry," Lee questioned, "What is going to happen about the DA?"

Harry looked back sheepishly. "I know I agreed to teach you all, but with this sudden change of plan, I am unable to provide the instruction you deserve. Perhaps Hermione will be able to come up with something?"

"What about Umbridge?" Angelina proposed. "If you are gone, we will miss our entertainment." She closed in conspiratorially, "there wouldn't be anyone to duel her, now that you are gone."

Harry gave a quick glance at the despicable woman. From what he had heard from Daphne, Umbridge had stepped down from her relentless pursuit of her madness; that is to say, she had almost numbed down and was just focusing on making sure that no meetings were held among students and reporting every tiny detail to the Minister. Ever since the duel, she had stopped mentioning both Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter, and if Daphne's version of events were to be believed, she had gone out of her way to negate topics about him from being raised in the school compound.

"Well she will be happy, now that I am out of the school. She always wanted that, I garner, though not in this way." Harry smirked.

"Bought your way out using fame, didn't you?"

Harry spun back to look into the usual brown eyes of his once-best friend and mate, Ron Weasley, whose eyes were green with jealousy. "Whatever do you mean?"

Ron grit his teeth. "Nothing. You become Lord Potter and Black, emancipate and flaunt your skills and power, and now go on for cooler things, leaving your best friends behind. Some Gryffindor you are." He seethed.

Harry calmly stood up. Now that he was leaving Hogwarts, he might as well create some miniature explosions as well. Clearing his throat, he applied a low-powered sonorous to himself, enough to make his voice audible but not enough to make it uncomfortably loud. "What can I say, Weasley? After all, the Sorting Hat had chosen _Slytherin_ for me. It was only because of my _unfortunate_ meeting with Malfoy of all people that I decided, that being in Slytherin meant living alongside that git for the next seven years of my life. Given how he got on my nerves with his daddy-talk, I might as well as attacked him by the end of the first week. That was the reason why I settled for Gryffindor."

"WHAT?" A chorus of undisguised surprise pervaded the entire Hall.

Smirking, Harry faced the entire Hall, addressing everyone. "Oh yes, the Boy-who-lived was meant for Slytherin. After all, I even _speak_ Snake." He hissed incoherently for five seconds, scaring the crap out of some of the students, but amazingly, none of the teachers stopped him. Either they did not mind it, or else they were themselves dumbfounded by the revelation.

"So the reason we are on opposite sides is because of the git?" yelled Tracey Davis, who looked midway between exasperated and indignant.

"Yes, Miss Davis, You are absolutely correct." Harry controlled his amusement, seeing the number of glares Malfoy was receiving from the rest of the House. He ignored the blank and stupefied looks his own House members were giving him. Umbridge looked ready to yell out in indignation, while Snape looked like he was about to vomit out the contents of the meal. Luna Lovegood had her trademarked dreamy look and a sweet smile fixed to her face.

"Any other secrets, you would like to reveal Harry? Before you go?" Fred enunciated, amused at the turn of events.

"Umm… I am sure I can think of something. Oh yes, Daphne Greengrass is my betrothed, legally speaking. Any attack of any kind on her person will be deemed as an attack on me." He paused, "the same goes for Luna Lovegood, whom I consider a dear sister." Given the dreamy look, either the girl was in her own world and did not hear his declaration, or she was the most accomplished Occlumens in the world.

Hermione seemed almost devastated that Harry did not even mention her or Ron in his speech, but said nothing. Harry turned back to the youngest Weasley male standing before him, seething at him. "Now Ronald Weasley, I had taken you and Hermione Granger as my best friends, but both of you betrayed me and revealed my secrets to a third person without my express permission. For that, I consider you oath-breakers. From now on, I officially break all kinds of ties with the both of you."

"Harry?" George asked, standing up in shock. "What did they do?"

"Ask your brother, and his girlfriend." Harry snapped. Then, his face relaxed and he continued, "My anger is only towards those two shits. The rest of you are my friends, even Ginny." Ginny smiled hesitantly at him. "For the record," he cancelled the charm and cast a privacy ward, "I would advise you to send Ginny to a mind healer, since I know she hasn't received any mental treatment after her… altercation with the Diary. Tell Bill, he will know what to do. If needed, I will personally bear the burden of her treatment."

George nodded.

Hermione looked completely shocked and devastated by the turn of events. This was not supposed to happen. All that she and Ron had done was for the Light. This was not the way they were supposed to be treated after everything that happened. She glanced at Ron who was literally seething with rage, as he sat down and began to gulp in more amounts of food down his throat. Not able to control herself, she burst into tears before running out of the Great Hall.

"I guess that is enough surprise for the night." Dumbledore commented as he stood up. Nobody refuted his statement.

* * *

 **Sometime later...**

"That was some show." Daphne pressed against his chest as they lay on a bed procured in the Room of Requirement. Harry looked at her and kissed her forehead gently. "I suppose. I thought that since it was my last night, I should provide some entertainment, as a passing gift."

Daphne lifted her head up and laughed. "Never do change, Harry. Never change."

"If you wish." He returned, kissing her earlobe, as she squirmed.

"It is going to be… odd without you." Daphne confessed. "I am going to miss you."

"Bah! You will just miss the romance." Harry taunted with a cheesy grin.

"I was talking about the training. Who knew that you were actually a decent teacher?"

"Umm… you?" Harry returned. Daphne laughed again.

"When am I going to see you again?"

"Uh, I guess in a couple of weeks?" he offered. Daphne sat up on the bed. "A couple of weeks?"

"Yes. Dumbledore said that I could take a day's break every couple of weeks. He said that being his apprentice, I was welcome to stay at Hogwarts for the break as well."

"Well," Daphne paused as she kissed him fully on the lips, "that is something, I guess." Her hands went over his neck as she drew him closer, and felt his hands entwine around her waist, as they settled into another heated snog.


	28. Chapter 28 : A new phase begins

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Hermione looked completely shocked and devastated by the turn of events. This was not supposed to happen. All that she and Ron had done was for the Light. This was not the way they were supposed to be treated after everything that happened. She glanced at Ron who was literally seething with rage, as he sat down and began to gulp in more amounts of food down his throat. Not able to control herself, she burst into tears before running out of the Great Hall._

 _"I guess that is enough surprise for the night." Dumbledore commented as he stood up. Nobody refuted his statement._

* * *

"This is not happening! This is not happening!" Hermione lifted her head as her bloodshot eyes stared hard at Ron who was sitting beside her in the Gryffindor dorm. "This is unfair! You know it."

"What can we do, Hermione? We did everything for Dumbledore. We put our duty in front of our friendship, and we reported everything to Professor Dumbledore, we did so much, while Harry busied himself in learning his... Family magic."

"Dark magic." Ron seethed.

"Dumbledore told us he is learning his family magic, Ron." Hermione countered condescendingly.

"You saw him, Hermione. You saw what he was about to do to Dumbledore in the duel. If he hadn't stopped Harry, we wouldn't have survived the explosion. You faced the waves, you know that!" Ron reasoned. For the first time, Hermione did not have anything to refute against Ron's logic.

"But the Headmaster-"

"Hermione, even if Harry was learning family magic, what makes you sure that his family magic isn't dark? You are missing the point. The Blacks were the darkest families in magical Britain ever since the Wizengamot was established.

"What is this family magic, anyway?" Hermione asked, curious. "I mean, your family is Pureblood too, Ron. Don't you also have your…?"

"Family magic? No, we don't, or at least, Dad hasn't shared it with us. Our family was an ancient family too, you know, until my great-grandfather lost everything to the Selwyns in a bad business deal. He decided to sell his family seat to make up for the lack of funds, and things have gone downhill ever since. The Ancient families decided to punish us and make an example out of us, and hence…" he reddened in embarrassment, "that is why Malfoy calls us 'blood traitors', because he wants to rub the fact on our face every time."

"That is why you hate each other so much?"

"Yes. Malfoys were the ones who helped the Selwyns beat my great-grandfather down and twist the business deal, losing him everything the Weasleys held. That is why we both hate each other so much. The Weasleys and Malfoys were allies, and they betrayed us."

"I never... knew."

Ron did not reply.

"For someone who sleeps during History of Magic, you sure know an awful lot." Hermione commented. The miniature history lesson had been a good enough distraction.

"This is family history. Every Pureblood is taught this before they join Hogwarts. It is… compulsory."

"Oh. So this family… dark magic, that Harry is learning, is that what made him so powerful?"

"Could be. He wasn't that great in class previously." Ron commented.

"Why would Dumbledore send him to the Guild then? It should have been-"

"It should have been you, Hermione. You are the smartest witch of your age." Ron returned, making her blush slightly. "We should… no, _you_ should, you are better at this talking stuff. You should go and talk to Dumbledore about this."

"You think so?" Hermione asked, hoping for some encouragement from her only friend. Ron nodded.

"Very well."

* * *

"How are we supposed to travel to this…Guild?"

"We portkey, of course. An untraceable, slightly modified portkey used by Guild members. Can't let anyone trace it, can we?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry nodded. He pulled out a little crimson scarf that had the Guild's seal on it and Harry held on it.

"Now, have you gotten everything you wanted?"

Harry mentally checked everything. Cloak. Trunk. Wand. Grimoires. Battle Robes. Trinkets. Yes, everything was there. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"Very well then. Let us begin your journey. To weave through magics, to battle with Giants and to dance with Death."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is that a… tagline type thing?"

Dumbledore shrugged.

* * *

There are three kinds of portkeys. The first is the standard portkey that is issued and created by the artifacts from the Ministry of Magic, and are registered with the portkey for two galleons. These portkeys usually have a transfer load of six people and is usually accompanied by powerful spinning and feeling nauseous. For a beginner, it was almost expecting to fall on his stomach and throw the contents of his or her stomach outside.

The second kind of portkey is the unauthorized one, and are usually created by powerful individuals, like Albus Dumbledore, Augustus Rookwood or… dare one say it, Lord Voldemort. These portkeys usually have the capacity to transfer one or maximum two people from one place to another. They also share the nauseous feeling, though the spinning thing is absent.

The third and perhaps, most interesting kind of portkey is the one used by Guild members across the different Guilds on the planet. These portkeys lack any kind of spinning or nauseous feeling, and are usually used to transport a maximum of three people across one place to another, and are created using a specialized artifact placed at every Guild fortress. Unlike the other two, these portkeys are perfectly untraceable and operate under anonymity charms. Like the portkey Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore were using right now.

One moment Harry was on Hogwarts, and then Dumbledore muttered something incomprehensible, and the next moment, he was standing on rocky ground, filled with snow, with a cold, hard wind blowing all over him, chilling his bones to death. Instantly, he cast warming charms on his person to protect himself from the cold, as Dumbledore did the same to himself. As far as the eye could see, there were humongous mountains, and snow… and snow… and nothing else but snow.

"Where are we?" Harry yelled, trying to make sure his voice wasn't drowned by the roaring wind. Dumbledore whipped his wand in an outward circle as a protective magical dome formed around them. "We are in Nepal, a miniature country bordering India. As of our location, we are standing on the highest mountain in the world."

"You mean this is-"

"Everest. Yes."

"The Guild... it's here?"

Dumbledore simply drew closer to his ear and whispered. _"The Transfiguration Masters Guild is located at ten thousand feet above the ground, on Mount Everest, Nepal, just next to the Transmogrifian cave."_

Instantly, the air around them seemed to blur as a gigantic stone edifice seemed to carve out of the face of the mountain- the pillars, the huge doors and windows—it was a damned fortress from the outer frontage, sinking into the mountain at such ungodly height. The front of the fortress had a royal and formidable-looking face engraved on the top.

"See that cave?" Dumbledore pointed to the right, and sure it was, a tiny cave was there, caving out from the main rock, almost imperceptible at the first glance. "That is the Transmogrifian cave. Remember that."

Harry nodded. Dumbledore waved his wand over himself and Harry, and magically their robes transformed into much thicker material, enough to keep the cold out. Harry put on the hood as he stared at the magical fortress that was about to be his home for the next few months.

 _No… Hogwarts is my home_ … A voice told him inside his mind, not that Harry refuted it.

Vanishing the dome away, the Master and his apprentice trudged through the snow, walking towards the giant edifice, towards the giant face through which a narrow pavement seemed to penetrate into the fortress.

"Whose face is that?"

"That face belongs to the most feared battle-mage in magical history. Atticus Le Fay, grandson of the nefarious witch Morgana Le fay. It is said that his power and knowledge of battle-magic was unparalleled."

" _Atticus Le fay was a right bastard with no skills of his own except those he had stolen by blood magics,"_ replied the same voice inside the depths of his mind. Harry wondered if this had anything to do with the part of his soul in the wand, but kept it to himself.

"Okay."

"Let us move in. It's time to introduce you to your professors." Dumbledore urged. "after all, they are going to be the one you are going to learn from."

"I thought you were going to be teaching me." Harry returned skeptically.

"Oh, I will. But that is private. The people we are going to meet are the active Professors at this place. You will be attending classes with other apprentices here. I will be teaching you on weekends in private. Surely you didn't think I will be shifting full time with you? I have Hogwarts to run, after all."

"Right." Harry drawled in Malfoyesque fashion.

* * *

From the looks, the fortress looked ancient by any and all standards. The ambient magic here, was at the same level as Hogwarts, if not greater. However, the innate homely feeling he was accustomed to at Hogwarts was absent, and was replaced by a foreboding feeling in his chest.

"That uncomfortable feeling that you are experiencing is because of the wards. You have been assigned the formal position of a student here, and hence, the wards are repelling you." Dumbledore commented offhandedly. The two walked across the main corridor and entered the tiny hallway that led to a small cavern-ish office at one end.

It was a small circular room, with a huge sprawling table built of stone and filled with hundreds of tiny, miniature artifacts making all kinds of queer sounds and noises. Harry ascertained that Dumbledore must have decorated his office copying it from here, given the unnatural similarity between both offices.

"Ah, Brian! Come in. And Mister Potter, welcome." Remarked an old, but no less formidable looking man sitting behind the table. The man had a thin silvery beard, cropped in French fashion with hazel eyes that pulsed with controlled power behind them. "Have a seat."

"Harry James Potter, meet GrandMaster Samuel Thuringen, the HighMaster of the Transfiguration Guild, not to mention my own mentor and friend." Dumbledore introduced, "Master Thuringen, meet Harry Potter, my apprentice and aspiring student under your tutelage."

Harry hesitantly smiled, while Samuel nodded expectantly.

"Oh," Dumbledore suddenly shook himself, "I knew I was forgetting something." He took out some documents from within his robes and forwarded them to Samuel who took them and began to look through the contents.

"Impressive Power levels. Battled a basilisk and killed it at twelve. Mastered a corporeal Patronus, and it is a thestral? Now that's unique. Winner of Triwizard Tournament only that you were underage. Lord of Potter and Black and affinity for family magics. Control over Fiendfyre and… interesting… your grades have rocketed this year, while previously they were average." Samuel commented, glancing at Harry, "any particular reasons?"

"Motivation. Previously I wanted to be normal, and now I want to be the best."

"Good answer, but I will hold you on to that." Samuel commented offhandedly, going back to reading. "Particular affinity for battle-magic and.. aha! Parselmouth, are you?" He looked up with interest.

"Yes." Harry answered, keeping his face expressionless while worrying inwardly if he would have to face the same old closed-mentality.

"Not to worry, not to worry, Mister Potter., The reason I am asking is because there is a Parseltongue native tribe not far from here. Unfortunately, they do not allow anyone but Parselmouths to enter their territory and have access to their lore and brand of magics. Since we never had a Parselmouth among us, the area falls under uncharted waters. I hope you will be able to change that."

Harry nodded, smiling for the first time.

"Now, let us get you done with the formalities." He took out several legal-looking documents and a very familiar quill, and handed it over. Recognizing what it is, Harry's face shifted into a frown. "Do I have to write with that?"

"Do you know what this is?" Albus demanded.

"Yes. A blood quill." Harry answered, still frowning.

"Where have you seen a blood quill before, Mister Potter?" Samuel looked at him with interest. "These quills went out of order several centuries before."

"The hag-I mean," Harry quickly changed track, "Umbridge, she was torturing students with it. She makes them writes lines with this for detention."

Instantly, Albus's face hardened. "That…. Woman is torturing students with a blood quill?"

"You didn't know?" Harry looked at him in surprise. The old man just looked angry before the emotion dissipated from his countenance.

"That may well be, but you have to use this quill to sign, Mister Potter. It makes the pact in blood."

"May I read it?" Harry asked.

"Of course."

The document stated that Harry James Potter was signing up as an apprentice to Albus Dumbledore under the banner of the Transfiguration Masters' Guild in best of health and sound mind, and under no forceful situations or mental control. As soon as he signed, he felt a wave flow through his nerves as the unpleasant sensation vanished.

"The wards now identify you as Harry James Potter, apprentice of Transfiguration Master's Guild. Now all we need is to get you a pseudonym for the academy."

"A pseudonym?"

"A fake name. The Guild is protected and pervaded by anonymity charms, and conceals the true identity of a student while they are there as an apprentice. The others will look at you, talk to you, but will not recognize you as Harry James Potter, the boy-who-lived. They will not be able to recognize your face even if they find it in some publication or anything of that sort. To them, you will be known by your pseudonym, until you have acquired your own mastery. Albus here, took the name Brian, when he was entered as an apprentice by Grandmaster Nicholas Flamel."

Harry turned to Dumbledore as if in confirmation.

"Surely you did not think that my parents gave me such a long name at birth?" Albus replied, a smirk on his ancient face. "My true birth name is Albus Percival Dumbledore. Wulfric and Brian being pseudonyms that I acquired from my masteries."

"Masteries?" Harry asked in awe, noticing how little he knew about his headmaster.

"Why yes." Samuel answered. "Brian here holds another mastery he obtained under the tutelage of Grandmaster Flamel and the Alchemist Guild. There he is known as master Alchemist Wulfric."

"Right."

"So we need to set a name for you, something that will be your identity. Albus had an ego that was hard to fit through the door so I gave him a rather simple name. Now you, on the other hand, need to have a little more confidence in your abilities than you seem to have." He looked back at the documents. "You have a good grasp of elemental magic and play more offensive than defense. You have the blood of war mages in you. Your wand is yew, which is good for offensive magic. I suppose I should name you Thor."

"As in the Norse God of battle and thunder?" Albus asked amusedly.

"Why not?" Samuel grinned. "He even has the lightning scar thing right."

Albus guffawed.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, a very embarrassed Harry James Potter, or rather - Thor, walked across the hallway towards the main staff room, following his Master and Grandmaster Thüringen. The staff office was very pedestrian to look at, though given the entire fortress, the residents did not place too much importance to style and comfort. Harry could live with that, not that he didn't have too much experience of living without comfort, only this time, it was by his own choice.

There were four masters responsible for the education of the seventeen apprentices, including Harry who were staying in the fortress. The first was Master Leonard Stark, who was a specialist in the field of elemental transfiguration, and had a propensity to resort to pyrotechnics, oddly reminding Harry of his classmate Seamus Finnegan, only that Master Stark had ironclad control over his powers. The man was around his own height, a little tanned with a long face, and had a thin beard stylishly maintained on his face.

The next was Master Anton Vanko, a Scandinavian by birth, who was a specialist in runic transfiguration. Apparently, he could defeat a multitude of opponents even without resorting to a single wand spell, just through the use of runes. He had a short stature and a squarish face with thin spectacles, revealing the sharp blue eyes behind them.

The third was Serena Thüringen, who was apparently Grandmaster Thüringen's own daughter, and was a specialist in the art of animation. She was a redhead, with sharp blue eyes, that reminded Harry of his own betrothed. Apparently, she and Dumbledore were classmates and had finished their Masteries at the same time. While Dumbledore had gone forth to achieve another Mastery under Nicholas Flamel, she had decided to pursue a career in education and research at the Guild. At present, she was a consultant for the ICW transfiguration council.

The fourth was a rather hunky and formidable looking man known as Derek Prince, who was apparently the Lord of the Ancient House of Prince in Magical Britain. The man was a specialist in weaponry and was a part-time professor in the Teufel academy in Bulgaria, which was notorious for turning out highly trained magical assassins. He was also the Guild's foremost authority in the Dark Arts, surpassing even Grandmaster Thüringen in that field. He had glanced at Harry once, the single look that promised Harry that he had just signed up for living in Hell for the next five months.

"Everyone, I leave Thor, my apprentice under your precious tutelage for the next five months, after which he will have to take a break to achieve his OWLS." Dumbledore expressed.

"A junior student? You brought a junior to the Academy? Have you finally gone insane, Brian?" Derek scoffed.

"Thor has had his magical maturity a few days ago."

"Thor... quite an ambitious name for someone so _puny_ like you, _boy_." Derek replied gruffly, making Harry mentally associate the man with Snape almost instantly. "How old are you, _boy_?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore for his consent, who nodded and replied. "Thor is fifteen."

"Magical maturity at fifteen?" Serena whispered, "Impressive. I can see why someone like you took him under your wing so soon." Dumbledore looked a little embarrassed. Somehow, Harry felt like he would be liking the female Master much more than the Prince guy.

"What are your affinities, boy?" Stark questioned, eyeing Harry as if he was about to burst into flames any moment.

"I am decent with Flame transfiguration, and anything that is fueled by raw power like the Patronus and Fiendfyre."

"Indeed?" Stark looked at him queerly. "may I see your Patronus?"

Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who simply nodded. "You have no need to hide your skills, Thor. Remember, anonymity charms?" Samuel remarked from behind.

Harry willed his Thestral Patronus beside him, and there it was, the dazzling white creature standing beside him, seven-feet tall and powerfully bright.

"Impressive. A wandless, corporeal Patronus at fifteen. I am not going to go easy on you, Thor." Anton Vanko remarked, almost as casually as if he were talking about the weather. "Do you understand Runes?"

"A little." Harry confessed.

"A little won't do." He looked up at Dumbledore. "Brian, he needs the introductory potions. I will send them. Make sure he is ready by tomorrow."

"Of course." Dumbledore returned.

"The boy will need a quick intensive study program for the first two weeks, since the curriculum has already progressed into the term. You should have brought him in the previous week by the minimum." Vanko returned.

"That was the plan, but he was in a magical coma for five days while having his maturity. I brought him as soon as I could."

Vanko nodded.

* * *

"What was he talking about?" Harry asked his mentor. "-about the introductory potions." He clarified.

"Anton makes his students intake several memory potions, which provide a workable knowledge into the field of the seven runic languages he teaches. He does not have the time or the patience to deal with beginners stumbling over the runic alphabets, and prefers them to start the session knowing those before-hand. Hence, the potions." Dumbledore explained.

"Awesome." Harry grinned. "What are you going to teach me?"

Albus smiled. "I am going to teach you how to use transfiguration in battle—taking your opponent's attack and transfiguration into your own defense. If you want an example, my most famous demonstration of my caliber was in 1945 when I transfigured Fiendfyre into a dozen rock golems, animated to fight for my side."

"Cool." Harry gushed. "where are we going now?"

Dumbledore smiled at his apprentice's enthusiasm. "We are going to your room. Your dorm, so to say. Unlike Hogwarts, apprentices get their own private room, though I admit, it is quite pedestrian."

Indeed, it was. Just a single bed, with a chair and table with a candle holder on the table. There was a book shelf and another for robes. There was a single window opening out into the mountains- the snow outside being visible from inside. For one thing, the room had inbuilt warming charms, supported by runes which remained activated using power from ley lines, running beneath the fortress.

"Like it?"

"It's good."

"Well, that settles it. Your trunk has been moved already, and is placed underneath the bed. Your classes begin tomorrow. Remember, no one knows you here as Harry Potter, and no one will associate you with Harry Potter. The anonymity charms take care of that. While you are a student, you are Thor, and frankly, that is a much better name than Brian."

Harry grinned.

"I think I should forewarn you about something beforehand." Dumbledore mentioned after some thought. "No matter what happens, never keep your abilities in secret. This place and its environment will challenge you, and you have to prove time and time again that you belong here. Do it, and you will have no problems. The education program is different from Hogwarts. Here, the principle is -'Ask not, get not'. The more you ask for deeper and more advanced education, the more you will be provided, though you will need to master what you are learning before demanding the next. No time to waste in here."

"How much… time does it take to acquire a Mastery?"

"Depends. There are two ways. The conventional way is to hold against the Masters in a fight for a given time. If you can do it, you are claimed to be a Master. The twist is that; you have to fight with what said Master has taught you. For instance, if you are fighting Serena, you can use animation and only animation- nothing else, and hold on for thirty-three minutes, which is the official fight time interval."

"And the second option?"

"The second option is to create a new battle-technique from scratch, test it against the Masters and defeat them in a four-on-one battle. However, this battle allows you to use any trick in and out of the book, and even stuff you can make up."

"Okay."

"Most people take at least two years to gain a Mastery. However, if you show progress, I might have some surprise for you, which I promise, you will love, but at the same time, will mean a lot more work than you already would have to give."

"I am not sure if I should call it a surprise or a shock." Harry deadpanned.

"Semantics." Dumbledore returned. "Get your rest. Remember, there are no elves here, so you will have to wash your clothes and tidy your room yourself. The food, however, is prepared by the chef and you do not need to worry about it."

Harry nodded.

"I will take my leave. I will meet you this weekend for your classes. Enjoy your stay."

"Thanks." Harry whispered. The old man might have committed many wrongs in regards to his life, but the chance to become the best damned wizard was something he wouldn't have gotten if not for the same old man. Casting a tempus charm, he realized that it was already quite late. Knowing that he would need to get up early, he shed off his robes for a good night's sleep.

* * *

 **The next morning…**

Dressed up in the official apprentice robes, Harry looked at the mirror to have a look at himself before he began the first day of a new phase of his life. The previous night, he had taken the memory potions before going off to sleep, though he couldn't really feel any difference in himself or his memories. He tried to put his hair fall down, but it remained standing up adamantly as ever.

"Balls," he whispered, trying to force some of his magic through his hand, as the hair somehow bent into a more proper position. "I guess I will have to do with that."

Breakfast had been rather pedestrian. The rich, bulky, delicious Hogwarts food was absent, replacing them with simple bread and soup, with an assortment of fruits and nuts. No pumpkin juice, only cold water from the streams running down the mighty mountain. Finishing his breakfast rather quickly, Harry checked with his schedule and went off for his first class.

 _Elemental Transfiguration with Master Stark._

The class had eight students, with seven of them seated in chairs, with Master Stark standing behind a rather large table. The classroom looked like an assortment of random objects, cluttered all around, almost like a muggle store room or a garage. Harry took his seat, ignoring the silent stares of the other seven students in the room.

"My fellow students, please welcome your new colleague, Thor." Two of the students chuckled at the name, while others stared at him oddly.

"You seem a little too young to be here." One of the students, a girl who looked around twenty, looked at him pointedly.

"I wasn't told that learning elemental transfiguration required a specific age." Thor retorted calmly, though the undercurrent of irritation was vivid beneath his cool exterior.

"Oh, look the puny kid is getting angry. Look kid," a rather large and bulky looking young man, who looked to be around twenty-five if he had to throw a guess, stared coldly at him. "This," he pointed out, "-is a place for people who know stuff. Not for those who are learning which end of the wand to hold."

Thor looked at Master Stark who was watching him intently, an expressionless demeanor stuck on his face, almost as if he was waiting for him to demonstrate a reaction. "Well it is a good thing then that I do not need to know it." Thor looked at his interrogator with a smirk. He raised his left palm, as the young man began to levitate up into the air-"I am fairly good without one." He smirked again, letting the young man down.

"Wandless magic? You can-" The first girl replied in a surprised voice.

"Yes." Thor deadpanned, in a tone that allowed no place for further arguments.

"Okay, class." Master Stark clapped his hands loudly, "Enough mingling among yourself. Let's begin the course for the day." He stood up and faced everyone as they looked expectantly at him.

"Because we have a new student among us today, I was hoping to have a quick revision of the concepts we have studied, recently. So who among you can share the Descartes' principle?"

A few raised their hands.

"Thor? Do you know it?"

Thor shook his head. "No, sir."

"Too bad. Amy, do you?"

"Of course, sir." The girl who had talked to him some time ago began to explain, "it states that the amount of energy used up during multiple flame retransfiguration is always exponential." She turned to glance at Thor and continued, "it means, the amount of magical power required to retransfigure fire increases by multiple amount, the more you do it."

"Right." Stark added, "now let us see a practical demonstration of the principle. Thor, would you like to volunteer."

Thor shrugged, as he stood up.

"I want you fight me off, using flame conjuration and transfiguration. Can _you_ do that?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Which flame spells are you familiar with?"

"Incendio, Ignis, Incendiaro, Fiendfyre."

"Fiendfyre?" Stark raised his eyebrows. "Can you _contain_ it?"

"Excuse me?" Thor asked, not familiar with the term.

"Hmm, let's demonstrate." Stark took to the center of the room, standing in the middle. "Observe." He snapped his fingers and there it was, flickering and dancing on the tip of his thumb, a little Incendio flame. Stark snapped his fingers and then made a fist, only to open his palm wide and there in the middle, was the flame, this time in the shape of a fiery sphere.

"Now." Stark pushed some of his energies as the sphere grew larger, and larger, until it was around ten inches in diameter, still perfectly stable in its shape and form. "This class," Stark explained, "is about learning how to adequately manipulate your energies, usually in flame form, and contain it to suit our purposes. Magic manipulation is an intricate art, and flame manipulation is merely the easiest way to be successful in it."

"Would you say that this fireball contains a lot of energy?"

"No, sir." A student replied.

"Why Flames, sir?" asked another student, sitting at the back.

"Because fire is pure energy, despite being an element. Something that differentiates it from the other elements of the universe." Thor spoke out quietly. "Right?"

"Right." Stark agreed with a confused smile. "Tell me Thor, how is it that you are almost a dunce at ordinary theories, and yet understand the complicated mechanisms behind transfiguration?"

Thor shrugged.

"Right." Stark replied, "let's get back to our _promised_ fight. Wont back out of an honest challenge." He grinned, much to everyone's amusement.

"Now Thor, as I said, only flame conjuration and transfiguration. Nothing else. I am a Professor, and hence I cannot allow you to levitate me and make fun of me. Right?" He grinned, showing that he wasn't serious.

"Right, sir."

"Well, I am the Master, so I will be the one to fire first. He shot the fireball towards Harry who retransfigure it easily into a tiny pellets towards him. Stark simply raised his wand, and transfigured the incoming attack into a fiery imitation of a dozen bats which attacked Thor, who spun his wand quickly to shielding against them but to no effect.

"Remember. Conjuration and Transfiguration." Stark yelled over the flames.

Thor listened to his voice as he forced his magic through the wand, feeling the fiery bats to tried to force their magics to transform. The entire group merged to form into a missile like shape, which shot towards Stark, who had a grin on his face.

"Excellent." He congratulated, "-however," he thrust his wand forwards as the entire missile exploded, the energy throwing Thor by at least five feet.

"And that, students," he concluded dramatically, "shows how more energy is required whenever you try to retransfigure flames, proving Descartes' principle right."


	29. Chapter 29 : Developments and Training

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Thor listened to his voice as he forced his magic through the wand, feeling the fiery bats to tried to force their magics to transform. The entire group merged to form into a missile like shape, which shot towards Stark, who had a grin on his face._

 _"Excellent." He congratulated, "-however," he thrust his wand forwards as the entire missile exploded, the energy throwing Thor by at least five feet._

 _"And that, students," he concluded dramatically, "shows how more energy is required whenever you try to retransfigure flames, proving Descartes' principle right."_

* * *

Not even a week had passed and Thor knew it like the back of his hand that Derek Prince hated him. Not that it was unexpected; after all, Hogwarts had a Snape to torment him at every step, why should the Guild be any different? At least, Master Prince knew what he did and went out of his way to explain his subject, unlike Snape who simply wrote the ingredients and let the students do it by themselves, not caring to even explain why they did what they did. Master Prince seemed to expect Thor to be the best, and never missed a chance to belittle him whenever he could not answer something or failed to provide an adequate performance in class.

The unfortunate thing was- Prince was a masterful teacher, and his personal ambition to make Thor's life a living hell aside, the man's classes were fantastic, and Harry found himself looking forward to the man's classes. The next class was going to be about the hidden arte of Occlumency and its' offensive opposite-Legilimency, and he was looking forward to it.

* * *

 **A few hours later….**

"Today we are going to begin our foray into the hidden arts of Occlumency and Legilimency. Now, who can tell me what either of them is?"

"Isn't Legilimency the same as Mind-reading?" The young man Thor had faced the first day, a French whose name was Sebastian Montague, spoke up.

"Couldn't have had a worse definition. Anyone else?" Prince spat.

"Legilimency is the art of extracting memories from another's mind, usually by force." One of the students, one Sophie Neveu, answered.

"Barely adequate."

"Legilimency is the art of invading someone's mind, and getting access to his mind space." Amy answered. The elder girl reminded him a lot of Granger, given how she was always able to answer questions correct to the technical point of view."

"Correct." Prince remarked. "Thor, have you _ever_ come across the terms in your school?"

"Yes, sir."

Prince raised his eyebrows. "And you know what it entails?"

"Yes, sir." Thor answered, looking into his eyes, recognizing his folly a little too late. A humongous amount of pressure shoved his way through his mind shields, which arose instantaneously, though given the pressure, he could feel his shields buckling and almost at the point of shattering into pieces.

 _I won't let him access to my memories. I won't…_

His inner determination called on his magic, which empowered his shields, powering them up once again, giving off a powerful resistance against the powerful Legilimency attack. He could feel blood in his mouth but refused to bend and accept defeat. Slowly, he felt the invasive presence withdraw from his mind as his shields erected themselves up to full power.

"You dunderhead," Prince snarled, "what kind of a moron are you?"

"Excuse me?" Thor returned, completely stunned by Prince's anger.

"This Idiot," Prince pointed at him while explaining to everyone, "This… this _boy_ , he suffered the brunt of my Legilimency at full power, and despite the lack of any kind of containment, he did not shield his eyes away. Instead, he decided to show off his strength and faced my attack head-on. I could feel his shields get to their breaking point, and I could see his mind crumbling, and yet he did not turn his eyes away." He looked back at Thor, "tell me Thor, don't you have the _minimum_ sense of self-preservation? Just what kind of a noble hero do you think you are?"

Thor looked at him, stunned.

"This class," Prince spat, "is about learning weaponry and the art of war. The first rule of war is to avoid fighting in the first case. The best win is one achieved without consorting to war." He snarled. "You could have easily shielded or looked somewhere else, but you didn't. Hopeless."

"But Sir-"

But Prince was not done. "You think you have wandless abilities and a ton of power so you will win a fight. That's a ridiculous notion if I ever heard one." He turned towards the rest of the audience, "This… moron, he might have _natural_ Occlumency shields, but push his buttons a little, and he becomes a little more than a mad dog who has been kicked a lot."

Thor stood silent.

"Here," he threw a tome at Thor who caught it, "that's a book on controlling one's emotions and learning to use logic in an emotional situation. Practice it. I expect you to overcome this… liability by the next week. Now get lost while I can teach the more deserving students"

Thor looked at him with shock. The fact that Montague and Sophie were sniggering at him, did not even register to his mind.

 _More deserving students…_

"I will _not_ fail you next time, sir." Thor answered slowly. Prince did not even care to reply back. Understanding that he had been dismissed, he slowly walked out of the classroom.

* * *

"Thor?"

Thor looked up to find Amy standing behind him. "Yeah?"

"Still sad?"

Thor looked at her in surprise. "About?"

"Don't be coy. I know you felt bad when Master Prince sent you out. I would have thought that he would have congratulated you, since Master Prince is an accomplished Occlumens and Legilimens, and you faced him head-on without breaking."

Thor shook his head. "Apparently, I have great shields, but pathetic emotional control."

Amy smiled, as she sat down on the cold rock beside him. The place, it was kind of Thor's favorite. He would sit on the wall overlooking the Transmogrifian cave and stare out into the snowy land outside, thinking and practicing all by himself.

"You know; I have had a lot of private education before I got the chance to actually be here. You, you have achieved the same so much earlier. You can do wandless magic, unlike everyone else. Yes, the Masters can do that, but it's not like you. You are _special_."

Thor sighed. "I hope you do not mind if I find it a little difficult to believe. Master Prince thinks I am next to useless."

Amy laughed. "You have got it wrong. Master Prince just expects a lot from you. More than what he expects from me. He just has a different way of showing his appreciation."

"Appreciation by insult. Right. Different indeed." Thor muttered.

"See?" Amy pointed out. "You are not in control of your emotions. Master Prince says that those who wear their heart on their sleeves, die first in the battle."

"I am trying." Thor receded. "It's just that it's not easy."

Amy laughed. "This is a Masters Guild. Nothing is easy. More for you, since you shouldn't be facing this until at least a couple more years."

"Right." Thor muttered, snapping his hands and manifesting little flames which danced on his fingers. Amy spotted the flames and questioned. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Really." He replied, snapping the flames in his hand out of existence. Amy however, decided to put her foot onto it. "Come on, show me what you are doing."'

Realizing that she wouldn't allow him a moment of peace unless she showed him, he resigned. "I was trying to use Descartes' principle and trying to come up with a battle technique."

Amy raised her eyebrows. "Create a battle technique? Thor, I don't know where you are from, but one doesn't try to create new techniques after just a week of education. You hardly know much and-"

"I'm just trying to use the principle in the fight, like Master Stark."

"Really?" Amy challenged, "come on, let's see it then."

Harry regarded her. Amy was really pretty, what with her blonde hair and bright hazel eyes. Frightfully intelligent and a glutton for magical theory, the girl was one of the very few he actually conversed at the Guild. Half of the other apprentices considered him a kid and unworthy of attention, and the other half treated him as a ticking bomb, one which held enormous fire power and could erupt any moment, and not necessarily with the best results. That left him mostly alone, studying hard, having to learn much more complicated concepts than NEWT level most of the time to fill up the distance between his education and others. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for not studying seriously in his initial years at Hogwarts. There, he was a talented individual among underdogs and thus had tried to be normal and average. Here, no matter how hard he tried, he was treated as an underdog, and no matter his talents and powers, he was always underqualified and treated like vermin.

"Come on, show me." Amy stressed.

Thor nodded as he raised both of his hands and pushed his magic through them. He manipulated the magic from his right hand to manifest a fireball which he propelled with little effort towards his other palm. Just the moment before it reached, he used his magic to bend the composition of the fireball to transfigure it into a miniature missile and send it back. The missile reached back to his left palm, and he forced the magic to retransfigure it back into a fireball as the process continued over and over again.

"Th—Thor, how are you doing that?" Amy spluttered, not wanting to believe what her classmate was performing in front of her eyes.

"What?" Thor looked at her, puzzled. "I am merely trying to transfigure and retransfigure it faster."

"Thor," she sounded half-surprised and half-exasperated, "you are manipulating raw magic over and over again, amplifying its power exponentially with every single retransfiguration. I fear that the little fireball in your hand might be equal to-"

"A standard Fiendfyre attack, I know. That is my plan."

Amy shook her head in disbelief. "Did you show this to Master Stark?"

"No. I plan on surprising him when I have perfected this technique."

"What do you mean?"

For the first time, Thor smiled. "I want to use this technique on real, uncontrolled Fiendfyre. I want to retransfigure it and then use the power against my opponent, just like Master Stark demonstrated, only that it would be infinitely more powerful."

That shut Amy up.

* * *

Classes with Master Serena Thüringen, were perhaps the most difficult of all. While Derek Prince was harsh, at least Thor could adequately perform in class most of the times, never mind the fact that Master Prince always found something or else to belittle him. The man was becoming closer and closer to being associated with Snape in his mind, and Thor had even reached that the greasy git shared some kind of family connection with Master Prince.

Master Thüringen taught animation, and unfortunately, Thor did not show any aptitude for it. Unlike other types of magic, animation was not something that depended on raw power. In fact, it was the opposite. While it was true that a more powerful wizard could animate multiple things simultaneously, animation was more about using magic with a paint brush. It was about control, and finesse.

When it came to animation, it seemed that Thor's own raw power was his own enemy. Animation required less energy and more finesse to perfect the art, and no matter how much he tried, he always ended up overpowering the dummy, obliterating it in the process. Master Thüringen had embarrassed him further by commenting that it was good that he had not tried to become a healer, else he would have more body count to his name than a dark lord.

Serena Thüringen however, was a lot better than Prince. Despite Thor's overblown attempts at animation, she diligently worked with him in her private lessons, lessons that often ended up with him having to learn how to manipulate his own core and his own release of magical power. She had explained how power flowed down the nerves of magical people, and interestingly, Thor had more refined stimulations in him, making the flow of magical power much more seamless and in large amounts, giving him a shitload of power at his fingertips. She made him relearn how to control his power, how to voluntarily restrict his core and release it when he desired. Thor had taken up the practice and had begun to work on creating another tactic out of it, working in secret, hoping that sometime in the future, the tactic would prove useful in battle.

"Constrict your power, and let it seep down instead of rush down like it does. Restrict the stream to flow as if it was flowing through a little pipe." Serena explained. "She even used Legilimency to peek inside his magical core, keeping to her word of not trying to spy on his original memories, a fact that greatly endeared Thor to her. Despite the fact that she was around a hundred years old, the woman had the agility of a young woman in her thirties and her excitation on facing a new challenge was almost childish.

Thus had begun his training to constrict and unleash his power at periodic intervals. It was a new experience, and he enjoyed it. Unlike Hogwarts, the education at the Guild was more practical–oriented. At Hogwarts, he would have studied magical theory, but here, he learnt how to apply it in real life. Initially, his core would not respond as it did, since it was used to the turbulent flow of energy outward, but Thor was nothing if not persistent.

Classes with Master Vanko was completely different though. The first class, he had realized the true effects of the potions he had taken on the first night. It hadn't changed his memories, but had simply given him an understanding of the seven runic languages and their nuances. Since he never had much of an experience with the subject before, there were no alterations in his memories, but the moment he sat down to read about the different rune systems, he found it to his wonder that he recognized them all.

Anton Vanko was perhaps, the only teacher at the Guild that was overtly fond of him. While Stark had his own brand of humor and Thüringen spent an awful lot of time training him privately, Vanko was overly excited to teach him, now that he had taken the potions and had demonstrated an aptitude for the subject. He had a valid reason for that too.

"Thor, this field of runic transfiguration… it is as ancient as it goes, and I have spent decades trying to master this field and stand where I am. Even then, there is so much that is beyond my level or skill, but you, son… you are special, you can do what I could not, if you work on it with due diligence." Vanko had explained to him during one private session.

"Surely you are overestimating my abilities, Master Vanko," Thor replied slowly, the harsh words of Master Prince working against him.

"Overestimating?" Vanko laughed, "No Thor, I am not. Let me give you an example. Observe." He raised his wand and moved it in intricate patterns, creating runic chains and matrices in the air, which glowed and manifested a powerful reflective shield.

"Do you recognize this shield?"

"The Imprimis." Thor answered.

"Correct. This shield," he remarked, "has the potential to stop _any spell_ of the level of a standard bone-breaking hex, and reflect it back to the opponent _without_ any loss of energy. However," he let the shield dissipate into thin air, "the energy requirements for holding this shield up are tremendous and quite taxing. As it is, it is impossible for me to attack while I am in a defensive position and using my wand to cast the shield"

Thor nodded.

"Now you however," he remarked, "are small, but have a lot of potential. Your power is tremendous, and when you learn how the _art of parallel synchronization_ , you will be able to divide your power between your two palms with ease, one holding up the shield and the other to throw an offensive spell. The possibilities of your wandless abilities are _limitless_ , and I believe you have only begun to etch on the surface."

* * *

The week was over and now it was time for him to begin his weekly lessons with Dumbledore. As promised, the old man had returned and being a former Master at the Guild, he had been authorized a private office for his temporary stay. As it was, the fortress had the ability to sprout out guest rooms whenever any guests arrived to stay at the Guild. The rooms would get absorbed into the walls after the guests departed.

"What are _you_ going to teach me, Professor?"

"Well, you know, a bit of this, and a bit of that." Dumbledore replied evasively. "To be honest, what I _can_ teach you depends upon your progress so far. So why don't you _show_ me what you _can_ do."

Thor considered the question. "Master Stark has been teaching us flame retransfiguration, and I have been practicing it. I think I can comfortably retransfigure any amount of _standard_ fire and use it against my opponent."

"Interesting. Fire Manipulation is the first step to magic manipulation. Once you master the technique with Fire, you will be proceeding to other elements like air, earth and then water."

"Is that the particular order?"

"Very astute. Yes, Thor, that _is_ the particular order." He drew up a cross on the sheet of parchment and wrote down-'Fire, Air, Earth, Water' in the four respective quadrants in that order. Below the names, he scribbled what Thor recognized as the runic equations for magic manipulation. "The manipulation of water, as you can see, is reverse to the fire manipulation, so learning water right after fire is detrimental to your development. Air on the other hand, holds much more similarity to Fire except for this-", he pointed out at the runic equation to show the difference of one single variable. "—which can be easily mastered. Then, Earth manipulation has a difference of one single variable to Air, and consecutively, Water has a single variable difference to Earth. However, Fire and Earth demonstrate a difference of three variables, and thus, it is not a good idea to try water manipulation right after Fire, or the reverse."

Thor nodded. "Master Thüringen has had me learning to control the flow of my magic, because I kept on overloading the animation dummies with excess power, blowing them to bits." He finished with his cheeks a little red with embarrassment. Dumbledore chortled heartily. "Yes, Animation is best reserved for those with adequate power. I too suffered from the same problem, but you will face it more than me."

Thor gave him a questioning look.

"Two reasons. The first is because I took my mastery when I was twenty-seven, an age when I already had a lot of control and fine-tuning over my magic. You do not have that advantage."

Thor nodded. "And the other?"

"You have more power than I ever had. Simple." Dumbledore smiled.

"Surely you are joking."

"I am not joking, Thor." Dumbledore quipped. "As good as it sounds to be the most powerful wizard, the moment you get yourself locked in a power struggle makes you a lot humbler. You, my boy, have a lot of power at your fingertips, something you share with Voldemort, though I admit while you would defeat him in terms of power, he has decades of magical experience and knowledge over you."

Thor nodded. He still did not want to fight for the Light, but if Voldemort, and knowing the bastard, he would- come for him or his family, he would ensure that the bastard would pay for his sins.

"Now, what else have you learnt?"

"Master Vanko insists on me learning runic transfiguration wandlessly. He says that I have a lot of potential on the subject. So far, I am able to cast a standard Imprimis and fire an energy burst simultaneously."

"Parallel synchronization." Dumbledore muttered, "I thought Vanko would do that. He has tried to master the technique but lacks enough power to do it. You on the other hand, would be able to diverge your power into two different runic matrices and still have some with you. It is easy to see why Vanko is so taken with you, and what about Derek?"

Thor scowled. "He is just like Snape."

Dumbledore chortled. "You have no idea how _right_ you are, my boy."

Despite his indignation, he continued, "Master Prince thinks I am a dunderhead, because my actions in his class are… well, whatever the term for 'Gryffindorish' is at the Guild."

"He does, doesn't he?" Dumbledore chortled again.

"Apparently, I am a failure at emotional control."

"Harry," Dumbledore returned, using Thor's real name, "Master Prince teaches assassins, and the most important thing for an assassin is to have an ironclad emotional control. The reason Derek insults you so much is because you demonstrate a reaction, proving the fact that you have no emotional control. Learn to recognize it, and _do not_ display a reaction at his taunts and insults. You will begin to understand the changes."

"You mean bottle my anger away? I am not sure I want to do that!" Thor muttered, reminiscing how he had bottled his anger upon discovering that his friends had betrayed him and how the Room of Requirement had gotten overheated when he had finally liberated his anger through his spells. The fortress might not even hold it if that would happen here."

"NO," Dumbledore expressed, "that is not what I meant. There are hardly worse things you could do to learn emotional control than bottling your anger. On the contrary, I want you to initially avoid giving any reaction to his insults. Tell me, do you _really_ think you are as _hopeless_ as he claims?"

Thor shook his head.

"Understand this, Harry. You are only fifteen, and yet here you are, knee-deep in magics which most people don't even touch in their entire lifetime. The other apprentices, they are all highly talented witches and wizards, who have had a considerable amount of education and experience before coming here. Yet, you are learning the same thing that they are, and _are_ doing so successfully."

Thor nodded.

"Understanding that, do you think that Derek's words are true, at least the hopeless part?"

Thor shook his head.

"Then understand and accept it, and stop showing a reaction to his taunts, since they mean nothing. Once you do that, you will be able to slowly put away your emotional responses and be able to logically analyze your own reactions and others. Occlumency has more to it than just having _natural_ mental shields, you know."

Thor widened his eyes at the news that Dumbledore knew about his natural shields, but then again, the old man was a Master here and it was almost obvious that he would get to know about it. "Remember, Derek trains assassins, who have ironclad emotional control, and hence expects the same from his students. Once you learn to do that, you will gain his respect."

Thor nodded. "I will try."

"Good." Dumbledore clapped his hands, "so let us begin our first lesson. We are going to learn how to _block_."

"Block? You mean, shield?"

"No, I mean block. The technical definition would be along the lines of using raw magic to squeeze out the momentum of a spell or a physical object and make it stop in mid-air, before it reaches your person."

"Wouldn't shielding it or dodging it be better?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Had you asked me this question while at Hogwarts, I would have said yes. However, you are learning the art of battle-transfiguration. The first thing you need to remember is that war is all about deception. Pretend what are not. When weak, display strength and when strong, display weakness. The art of _blocking_ is a _show of strength_." He explained. "Anyone can throw up a shield or dodge a spell, but trust me, it is very disheartening to see your spell reach your opponent and then stop in mid-air."

Thor nodded, agreeing to his theory.

"Enough talk, let me demonstrate." Dumbledore got up from his chair. "Now, since I am an old man, please keep yourself from sending an over-powered spell at me." He winked.

Thor rolled his eyes as he shot a stunner from his hand, not caring to use his wand. Dumbledore simply thrust his wand forward and the stunner just-

 _Stopped in mid-air._

Thor could even see the pulsing crimson energies inside the stunner that was now floating in air like a fireball. "Now," Dumbledore began, "blocking, while a little difficult to master, does not consume as much energy as a shield does. In fact, the power required to block a standard stunner is _less than half_ of what is required to raise a Protego powerful enough to stop it." He paused, "—and then, there is this-" he thrust his wand towards the stunner which propelled back towards Thor who deflected the stunner towards the floor.

"One can simply propel the opponent's spell back towards the opponent. This is extremely useful while fighting dark curses, especially those you do not recognize. Unlike a shield, blocking works on all spells _except the Imperius_ , which uses magic manipulation not very different from Legilimency. The Cruciatus and the Avada Kedavra on the other hand, _can be blocked_ , though the power required will be quite taxing I am sure."

Thor nodded, understanding that the information might just save his life someday.

"Now, for the rest of this class, I am going to be enjoying my lemon drops and hurling spells for you to block. Since I don't want to get up every now and then and get you enervated, we are _not_ going to use stunners. A powerful stinging hex and a banishing hex might just be a _better_ option."

Thor groaned.

* * *

Two hours and forty-seven welts later, Thor somehow remained standing on his feet. His entire body was itching and paining, the stinging hexes were damn fast and were very difficult to catch midway, never mind blocking them successively. He had come close to blocking one, but it blew up on his face, resulting in him coughing for five minutes. Dumbledore didn't even have the conscience to apologize for the fact that he had just _conveniently_ forgotten to mention that an overuse of magic for blocking could in fact, _blow up_ a spell.

Come now, Thor. Surely you are _capable_ enough to block a stinging hex? It's a _first year spell_." Dumbledore taunted, making him angrier. Another stinging hex shot out at him and he almost caught it, but in his anger, he overdid it and it blew up, throwing him off his feet.

"Tut, Tut. Perhaps Prince does have a few reasons for calling you names." Dumbledore remarked, eyeing him curiously. Thor got up in anger. "I am _not_ hopeless and I will-" he stopped midway.

 _He knows that I am not hopeless, and yet he is taunting me, only because he knows it will make me mad and make me lose my control. Damn._

He stopped and relaxed himself, taking a deep breath. "Give me your best shot, Professor." Another stinging hex shot out and this time he nearly dissipated its energy before it hit him.

"Is that all you got?" Thor taunted back, making Dumbledore smile. _Finally, he is learning_ , he thought. Dumbledore raised his wand and fired a powerful stinger, which shot out and traversed the distance between them and was about to hit Thor in the chest and then-

It _stopped_. Floating in mid-air.

"So this is how it feels. Using my power like a _web_ and holding the spell _captive inside the web,_ dissipating off its momentum." Thor muttered to himself. He felt the momentum vanish away before he propelled it with some of his own energy, as the hex hurled back and hit the lemon drop on Dumbledore's hand, blasting it into smithereens.

Dumbledore looked sadly at the obliteration of his favorite delicacy. "That was insanely cruel of you, Thor, to destroy such a delicacy. That said, I am sure that the stinger wasn't supposed to blast it like it did."

"I might have _retransfigured_ your spell into a simple blasting curse, professor." Thor grinned. "Descartes' principle, you know."

* * *

 **Meanwhile, back in Magical Britain…**

The fact that Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived had left Hogwarts proved to be more earth-shattering than anything else. The magical population had divided into three major groups—the ones who worked at the Ministry and were Fudge loyalists, who were overjoyed at the fact that the boy-who-lived had finally understood that Fudge was not someone to be trifled with, and not being able to withstand the shame of defeat, he had transferred himself to some other school. They completely ignored the fact that he had been transferred to a Guild of all things and believed that it was another of Dumbledore's lies. Rita Skeeter had done a masterful job in presenting the fact in such a way that it all seemed like a perfect white lie that Dumbledore would have told to the public, just like the lie that a certain dark wizard was back.

The second group were those who were in awe that the boy-who-lived, at the age of fifteen, had been invited to a Guild for further education of all things, and wholeheartedly supported it. The neutral faction was mostly in this group. Lord Greengrass and Sirius had wholeheartedly supported that they were very pleased at Harry's progress.

The third was a more radical group of people, who were mostly comprised of muggleborns and halfbloods, who seemed to consider this as Harry Potter being forced to leave Britain because of Fudge's tomfoolery and his incapability to accept the truth. Demonstrations were held in public against Fudge's administration, but it was nipped easily by the Auror contingents.

Back at Hogwarts, Umbridge seemed to think that Christmas had come early for her. The moment Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore left for the Guild using the portkey, she seemed to assume herself as the next Headmistress of the castle. She had even tried to enter into the Headmaster's office, resulting in her being hurled back to the wall by a rather infuriated stone gargoyle, which point-blank refused anyone from entering the office without the express permission of the Headmaster. That however, did not stop Umbridge from assuming control over her High Inquisitor position and assigning three new educational decrees on the very same day. Any and all mention of Harry Potter was absolutely forbidden, and she pretended that said boy had been thrown out of Hogwarts instead of the transfer he had received. That very day, she had brought in several students from Gryffindor House and questioned them with Veritaserum, asking them to reveal all that they knew about Harry Potter and his propensity to cause malice. Draco Malfoy and his cohorts—Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson that is, were a great asset to her in this case, what with the way Malfoy seemed to expound on Potter's _adventures_ and his disdain for rules, and his malice.

Dumbledore's absence from the castle had left Hermione alone in uncharted environment. She had to submit to a round of interrogation by Umbridge, where she was all but force-fed Veritaserum, and forced to reveal even more about what she knew about Harry Potter. Umbridge had thought that the boy had been making up stories, but she was completely shocked when the girl explained in ginormous detail about how Harry had battled with the diary and the basilisk among other things. Clearly, the boy was confounded and the girl seemed to share his problem. However, that did not stop her from making said girl write lines using her favorite quill again and again.

However, nothing could have prepared Dolores Umbridge for what had happened the next morning.

* * *

It was time for breakfast and everyone was in the Great Hall including students and staff. Dolores Umbridge, the High Inquisitor and self-proclaimed Headmistress of Hogwarts, daintily walked up to the Headmaster's throne to sit on it. Ever since she had begun the DA and all but forced Professor Flitwick to _assist_ her, there had been no complain from the Pureblood community since they were getting the DADA education they had hoped for. Professor Flitwick, being the master duelist that he was, had no problems in teaching DADA to the students, and after the initial forceful signup, he had taken up the job as his own and continued teaching the DA properly, much to everyone's delight, leaving Umbridge to pretend being the Queen Bee of Hogwarts.

She walked up straight to the throne, and then with a rather flamboyant fashion, she turned back and sat on it, never expecting what was about to happen until a moment after when-

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

A huge banishing charm seemed to activate out of nowhere, throwing the toad woman high up into the air, as everyone watched her fall down all the way onto the ground with a great sound. It was clear that the woman had broken a few bones by the looks of it. However, that was not all. The momentum of the propulsion had her body skid across the floor, all the way straight to the entrance as the great oak doors opened with a thunderous roar, the person walking into the room being just as magnificent as the sound that had accompanied his entrance.

Albus Dumbledore had just entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

Ignoring her pain somehow, Umbridge got up from the floor, maintaining all the dignity that someone dressed in dust could have, and glared at the old man in front of her. "Albus Dumbledore, this is all your fault. As High Inquisitor, I-" she stopped midway, realizing that something was different in the man she was talking to. This was not the dotty old man who had listened silently and accepted every word and clause that Cornelius Fudge had dictated to him this year. The twinkling-eye thing was gone, blaring the fact that the old man had deserted and the defeater of Grindelwald had walked into his place.

"Dolores Umbridge, did you torture _my_ students with a _blood quill?"_

The scions of the older families immediately recognized what Dumbledore was talking about. The Blood Quill was a device that employed the principles of blood magic and was normally used exclusively in signing contracts, because it used the writer's own blood and magic as its ink. The negative of using the quill was that it sucked in a significant amount of blood, even for writing a single line, causing the writer to fall sick. If Umbridge was torturing them with the Quill, then that meant-

 _Damn._

They all looked towards each other, and then towards Umbridge who was staring defiantly at Dumbledore.

"I refuse to answer. I am the High Inquisitor and I-"

She couldn't speak any further. Why? Because the headmaster _wandlessly_ bound her in a petrifaction hex as she was slowly being levitated higher, higher, until she was at least twenty feet from the ground, and then-

THUD!

Umbridge screamed.

"Did you, or did you not, use a blood quill on my students?" Dumbledore snarled angrily. Everyone went deadly silent, never seeing this face of their normally calm, funny and eccentric Headmaster.

"When the Minister finds out-"

"You should just hope that the Minister does find out. And I hope that Cornelius knows better than to allow you to do so in my school, for if he does not, then he is going to join you in _your fate_."

Dolores swallowed. "Yes, I did."

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say. For Dumbledore snapped his fingers, sending her up in the air once again, despite her screams. "Did Cornelius give you authorization for it?"

"NOOO!" she wailed.

"That will be enough, Dumbledore." Remarked someone from behind him. Everyone watched in shock and one particular girl from Hufflepuff squeaked in surprise, as Amelia Bones, the director of Magical Law Enforcement, walked into the Great Hall. "Albus, please let her down."

He snapped his fingers again, as she fell down on the ground, emitting another shriek of pain. Amelia rolled her eyes at Albus's antics, but did not comment. "That will be enough to send her packing into Azkaban."

"You cannot do that to me. I am the Senior Under-" she stopped midway as a couple of magically restraining bracelets attached themselves to her hands, tying them together, "-secretary."

"You will find that I can." Amelia hissed.

"I will not let this go, Albus Dumbledore," Dolores hissed, half in pain and half in vengeance. "The Healers will find your magical signature, and I will see you out of Hogwarts."

"Actually, they won't." Amelia explained offhandedly. "He did _not_ use his wand. Aurors?" Ignoring the look of blank shock in her eyes, the Aurors dragged her out of Hogwarts, ignoring her wails all the way.

Amelia watched her leave. She turned towards Dumbledore. "I am frankly, surprised by this… activeness on your part. I thought Albus Dumbledore was a passive fighter."

"Motivation." Dumbledore replied. "Previously I wanted to give second chances, now I know that they do not mean anything to such people."

"The reason for the change?"

"The reason is _not here_ , at the moment." Albus replied cryptically.

"So I have heard."


	30. Chapter 30 : Choices

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Amelia watched her leave. She turned towards Dumbledore. "I am frankly, surprised by this… activeness on your part. I thought Albus Dumbledore was a passive fighter."_

 _"Motivation." Dumbledore replied. "Previously I wanted to give second chances, now I know that they do not mean anything to such people."_

 _"The reason for the change?"_

 _"The reason is not here, at the moment." Albus replied cryptically._

 _"So I have heard."_

* * *

 **October 31** **st** **,1995. Halloween.**

The Transfiguration class for the fifth years was going on as usual. Okay, scratch that, it was not the usual. Unlike the other times, this class was much more… _subdued_. Mcgonagall had just finished explaining everyone the rules of inanimate conjuration, and despite the fact that she had just conjured a table out of thin air, there was absolutely zero reaction from the students.

"Okay!" Mcgonagall replied with frustration. "What is wrong with everyone, today?"

Whispers abounded among the students, but no one really replied back properly.

"Okay, something is seriously wrong. What happened?"

Hermione Granger stood up. The rest of the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs looked at her. "I was… wondering, if you could tell us more about this… Transfiguration Guild Harry went?"

"Oh." Mcgonagall deadpanned. She stared coldly at the rest of the audience. "Is this question also shared by anyone else?"

Everyone nodded.

"Very well." Minerva sighed, vanishing the table away, walking back to her chair. "Fine." She looked up at everyone and asked, "what do you want to know?"

"What is the Guild, Professor?" Parvati Patil asked.

"As you know, Hogwarts is the premier institute in Great Britain that offers education to students up to NEWT levels. Other countries also have similar institutions like Beauxbatons in France, Durmstrang in Northern Europe and Ilvermorny and Salem Academy in the States." She paused, "-after passing your NEWTS, you can apply for jobs both at the Ministry and at private firms. However, if you wish to pursue a Mastery in a subject, you need to apprentice under a Master and then invent or develop something new, and then demonstrate it in front of the ICW Research Congress. If they find it satisfying, then you are considered to be a Master of the art."

She paused, allowing everyone to absorb the information.

"Now, there is another alternative for achieving mastery, a practice that predates the modern ICW practice. It is through training in the Master Guilds present all over the world. For security reasons, the location is kept secret to all but the Masters and apprentices who work or study at the Guilds. There are a total of seven Guilds in the world- The Transfiguration Guild, the Alchemy Guild, the Runemaster Guild, the Artificer Guild are the four which are known publically."

"What about the other three?" Susan asked.

"The other three," Mcgonagall explained, "are the lesser known ones, because the magics they deal with are extremely delicate and destructive in the wrong hands. The Illusion Masters Guild, the Necromancers Guild and the Blood Mage Guild- they deal with unbelievably powerful magics and prefer to stay secret. Usually any student apprenticing for any of these Guilds is a Master from the other four."

"You make them sound as if they are very powerful." Hannah Abbott commented. "But we have never heard about anyone from such Guilds fighting against the Dark Lord in the previous war."

"That is because that the Guilds do _not_ belong to Britain. They are international and hold a neutral status. The Masters who come out of these seven Guilds are internationally famed and hold seats at the ICW."

"Like the Headmaster?" asked Justin Finch-fletchley.

"Precisely. The Guilds only interfere when there is a global threat that had cause severe catastrophe, and importantly, something beyond what the ICW War-wizard contingent can handle."

The entire class fell silent.

"It might surprise you that the last blood war against the dark lord was given the status of a _rebellion_ by the ICW, and not a war. In fact, the only _proper_ war was the war against Grindelwald in which the ICW sent its war-wizard contingent to battle. Only when things became overtly out of control did the Headmaster, who is a Battle-transfiguration Master, rose to participate on behalf of the Guilds. As we know, we did not need any further help to end the battle."

"You mean that there are wizards out there who are _much more powerful_ than even Professor Dumbledore?" Susan countered.

"Let's just say that the reality of the world is far more different than what we perceive it to be." Mcgonagall replied evasively.

"What about you, Professor?" Hermione pointed out, "You are a Master, yourself. Aren't you?"

Minerva glanced at Hermione. "Yes, I am. I apprenticed under Professor Dumbledore on inter-species transfiguration. My project on animagus research gained me my Mastery but no, I did not come out from the Guild."

"But Professor, Hermione gets the highest marks in class. Surely she can apply to the Guilds?" Ron pointed out, ignoring the pointed looks everyone gave him. Hermione blushed, but did not deny it.

"As good as that would be, the truth is Miss Granger, your marks on the subject demonstrate your ability to understand the theory behind it. _Ability and affinity are completely different things_."

"But Professor-" Hermione defended.

"And importantly, you do not apply to the Guild per se. The Guild invites you in; usually the rite of passage involves a former Master of the Guild taking an apprentice and introducing him into the Guild, like it happened with Mister Potter. If it makes you feel any better, despite being his apprentice, Professor Dumbledore did not introduce me to the Guild."

That shut everybody up.

"But Harry was hardly above-average in-" Ron began but Mcgonagall interrupted him midway. "Whether Mister Potter was above-average or something else, is my and his master's job to decide, Mister Weasley. As good as _your_ opinion might be, the Transfiguration Masters Guild did _not_ ask for it." She snapped, shutting the redhead off.

"Now, does anybody have any more queries? Or do I have my students back for the next topic on conjuration?"

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat inside the confines of his office. A lot had changed in the world recently, and almost surprisingly, he was the fulcrum on which the change had occurred. One simple decision, and a boy who he had professed time and time again, that he needed a proper and enjoyable childhood, was now sitting in a class at the famed Transfiguration Guild learning things most people twice his age wouldn't even hear. An old man who had been passive all his life had turned away from his choices and cast the dice again, and this time, had decided to be pro-active in the new world that was slowly forming in front of his eyes. And the funny thing was, the _true_ fulcrum behind this change was a man who was and had been a prankster all his life.

 _Sirius Black._

It had all started from one single meeting he had had with the Black. One ordinary meeting while Harry had been stuck in a magical coma, one simple meeting that had changed the way Albus Dumbledore visualized the world.

* * *

 **Nine days earlier… (23** **rd** **October, 1995)**

Albus Dumbledore, dressed in formal battle-mage robes, strode down the second-floor corridor, his mind working out on a simple plan with which he would defeat Harry in the battle, employing a few transfiguration tricks. He would at first, allow the boy to show off his skills, something that would enable him to show everyone that Harry Potter was not someone to be trifled with, and then he would bring Harry down by a rapid attack. It seemed like a proper way to end the duel with the boy, making sure that the boy wasn't insulted by the match. He just passed the corridor and turned around when-

"-Merlin, I myself trained you a little in the beginning and even then, I knew you held back. I understand that you have been training-"

It seemed Harry and Sirius were having a little pep-talk by the sound of it. His manners told him that he shouldn't overhear, but that could not sedate his curiosity. He manipulated the magic around him a little to enhance the audibility of what they were talking about.

"-I can't help but Ask-Why? Why? Why would you even want to do this?" Sirius asked.

"Because I do not want to live in fear, controlled by manipulating old men and monsters who would force me to fight whenever they felt right. I want to go out there, and no matter I win or lose, I will make sure that both of them- Dumbledore and Voldemort, understand that I'm not the helpless child that both of them played with."

 _WHAT?_

 _Does he really think of me as a monster? I know he is angry but this…._

"At the end of every year, I begged Dumbledore to let me stay at Hogwarts, or just anywhere else for the holidays. I just did not want to go back and suffer at the hands of those filthy… Dursleys. Yet, Dumbledore did not take me seriously and despite all my begging, he sent me back like a good little present to be tortured for another summer. In my third year, he could have protected you himself, but he did not-" Harry was saying.

For Albus Dumbledore, it was as if, someone was throwing dead cold water on his face, waking him up after a long sleep. He had always thought that Harry exaggerated about his relatives, because like every other wizarding kid, he did not want to be away from the castle and the magic.

"-I saw how my chance at a happy home disappear in front of my own eyes while Dumbledore did not lift a finger to help me. That is why I am going to fight him today. Even if I cannot defeat him, every spell I shoot will contain my rage and my helplessness and suffering that was caused by him. That is why this duel is so important to me-"

 _I have wronged him._

 _I have wronged him way too much, and defeating him using transfiguration might just be what it takes to throw him towards the dark…_

Albus Dumbledore changed his plans. He was not going to fight to win. He was going to fight, only to make the boy bleed his anger off. If that meant that he had to lose, he would.

* * *

 **The next day… (24** **th** **October, 1995)**

"Come in, Sirius."

Sirius Black entered into the Headmaster's office, looking around nostalgically at the familiar office he had entered so many times as a student.

"Take a seat."

"Why did you call me here?" came the direct question.

"Harry."

"He is already in a coma because of you. What more do you want?" Sirius all but snarled, taking the seat, but making sure that his wand was in his palm.

Dumbledore sat down on his seat, looking resigned and every bit his age. The next words that he uttered, caused the other man to stare at him widely.

* * *

 **After a three-hour long discussion…**

Sirius Black stood up from his seat, his palms wide open on the sprawling table for support. "I hope we have an _accord_."

"We do," Dumbledore nodded, his twinkling-eyes gone, "and more… Sirius, I thank you for showing me the truth. I promise I will make things right. I will even the odds for him this time."

"And what about… _you-know-what_ …?"

"I will see to it. Thank you, Sirius. It is unfortunate that Harry is still in a coma, but the fantastic thing is that he is having his magical maturity at this age. This is… unheard of." He paused, "You do understand why it is important that you keep Harry out of our… _mutual discussion and agreement_."

Sirius looked solemn. "I do." He turned towards the door and turned the knob, but then he stopped and spoke back, not even looking back at the Headmaster. "I hope you understand that if you try to manipulate him again like the way you have, I will not stand it. I don't care how powerful you are, but _trust me Albus_ , you and I _will_ come to blows."

Albus did not reply.

Sirius turned the knob and exited the room.

Albus sighed. "Now only if I can convince the boy to go alongside the idea. Maybe it is time to clear up things with him."

* * *

 **30** **th** **October, 1995.**

"Most people take at least two years to gain a Mastery. However, if you show progress, I might have some surprise for you, which I promise, you will love, but at the same time, will mean a lot more work than you already would have to give." Dumbledore explained. It was time to leave Harry by himself at the Guild and return back to Hogwarts.

"I am not sure if I should call it a surprise or a shock." Harry deadpanned.

"Semantics." Dumbledore returned. "Get your rest. Remember, there are no elves here, so you will have to wash your clothes and tidy your room yourself. The food, however, is prepared by the chef and you do not need to worry about it."

Harry nodded.

"I will take my leave. I will meet you this weekend for your classes. Enjoy your stay."

"Thanks." Harry whispered. For some reason, Dumbledore couldn't meet the boy's eyes. How could someone have suffered so much and yet become a person with such amount of innate goodness? He felt like a hypocrite. He had spent decades trying to convince everyone to give second chances to people, when beneath everything else was the simple fact that it was him who wanted a second chance to just go back to that evening when his dear Ariana was killed because of his bad choices. He had committed innumerable crimes in regards to the boy and called it necessary for the Greater Good, knowing it well that it was the same Greater Good that propelled Gellert Grindelwald to create the massacre that he did. He had tried to manipulate and convince his fellow Order members to follow his practice and avoid killing, when the truth was that he had more blood in his hands than even Voldemort might have had. After all, Albus Dumbledore was the one who personally killed each and every one of Grindelwald's reapers and drove _him_ out of France. And yet, he was the one who had stayed passive, never wanting a direct confrontation with Voldemort because of his innate fear that if he lost, then Voldemort would gain the allegiance of the wand.

He slowly walked back to the outer corridor, towards the main gates of the fortress. The words of Grandmaster Flamel came to mind, when he had revealed to Flamel about winning the allegiance of the mythical wand by defeating Gellert Grindelwald.

" _ **The owner of the wand must always fear attack. In fact, the lure of holding a wand that could win you against any opponent has made it a veritable treasure for dark wizards and reassure-hunters alike. You must keep it, tame it, study it if you will, but never give in to its power. If you do, you will lose yourself just like many others before you."**_

" _ **I won't lose myself. I have enough restraint." He had expressed vehemently.**_

 _ **Nicholas smiled. A melancholic smile. "Wulfric, you have personally killed thousands, and besides, Gellert was neither the first dark lord in history nor the last. I am sure you will find yourself in a fight before long. You will have to fight and you will have to kill. What happens then?"**_

 _ **Albus stayed quiet. "Then… then I won't fight. I won't kill, I won't maim. I will accept the role of the Headmaster position that is being offered to me at Hogwarts. I will teach and educate students, and hopefully soon enough, there will be someone who will have the potential to take up my mantle of protector from me."**_

" _ **Interesting proposition, Wulfric. You do know that my wife is a seer?" Nicholas smiled at him.**_

 _ **Albus nodded.**_

" _ **Well, she said that I should say something to you. To quote her own words, "Wand and blood have the same destiny. They should always be together."**_

 _ **Albus narrowed his eyes, trying to understand what his mentor just said. It was cryptic, and would certainly require some private time to decipher the meaning.**_

" _ **I have another piece of advice then, for you, my friend, if you will bear me."**_

" _ **Always." Albus looked at him with a smile.**_

" _ **Defiance, not obedience, marks the character of the true successor."**_

 _ **Albus nodded. "I will… keep that in mind." He held up the mythical wand and looked at it. "This wand will not kill anymore. This wand will not tame me. I will tame it."**_

 _ **Nicholas laughed. "Whoever told you that this wand only influences others to kill? This is the Elder wand, Wulfric. Elder to all. Always remember… Wand of Elder, never prosper."**_

He stepped out of the giant door, glancing at the mammoth face of Atticus le fay, as he walked towards the cave. Nicholas had been right. The wand did influence hm. It might not have influenced him to kill, but it had turned him into a hypocritical, manipulative old man who treated everyone as his pawns and concentrated on the larger picture, using Gellert's own principle of the Greater Good. He had fought monsters in the prime of his life, and had become a monster himself at the end of the battle. In hindsight, had he forsaken the fear of losing the wand to Voldemort, perhaps the last war would have had a different outcome. Maybe things wouldn't have been like they had- maybe the Potters would have been alive, and Harry would have had the perfect childhood that Albus wanted him to have. Even by influencing him to stay passive, the elder wand had made him a cause of unwanted destruction.

 _I owe him. I owe everyone._

The Elder wand was now safe, having sworn its allegiance to its blood. If Nicholas was right, the allegiance of the wand was always towards the Peverell blood, and if the myths were to be held believable, the wand was a substitute for a Warmage- causing chaos and deaths in the world until a real Warmage finally returned to the mortal world and held over its reins. Whether Harry Potter was _the_ Warmage, remained to be seen.

If he were frank with himself, he would have said that he felt lighter than in years. Not having the wand, he was free to take a new stance, just like Samuel always said…

 _ **One can always choose. If you do not like what you have chosen, then choose again.**_

And he would choose to do better. The first of many, was to make sure that Dolores Umbridge left Hogwarts for good, and he knew just what to do to make that happen.

* * *

 **Back to the present… (31** **st** **October, 1995)**

Albus shook himself off from his reveries. So far, everything had turned out to be good. Amelia had a good head on her shoulders, and it didn't take him five minutes to make her agree with his proposition. A swift interrogation, a sly trick of wandless magic, and a solid proof- there was no way Dolores Umbridge was getting out of Azkaban any time soon. Perhaps Cornelius also deserved something along similar lines, but it would be difficult considering that it would involve the Ancient Houses. Food for thought.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in, Miss Granger. Mr. Weasley."

Hermione Granger stepped inside the circular office, followed by Ron Weasley, as the door closed automatically behind them. They took the seats as he looked at them curiously, waiting for them to address their concerns. The visit was almost expected, given how Harry had been selected as an apprentice for the Guild, something that was bound not to go well with Miss Granger, who was an incredibly competitive individual. Young Ronald seemed to defer to her, and he assumed that it would be the girl who would lead the conversation.

"I'm waiting, Miss Granger."

"Sir," Hermione fidgeted, "I am not sure how to put this in more… proper words, so I will be blunt. Ron and I… We… think that we have been treated unfairly in all this."

"Okay."

Hermione looked up, expecting some more reaction from the Headmaster but finding none, she continued, "Professor, when you called us to help you to… _spy_ on Harry, we placed our duty above our friendship. It was necessary for the larger good of the people and hence." she glanced at Ron, "-we did it. You told us how Harry could be under Voldemort's- mind control and to report to you, and well, he had been studying dark magic-"

"Family Magic." Ron and Dumbledore replied in unison, but Ron looked embarrassed and looked away. Hermione continued, "yes, well, family magic, but as Ron said to me, the Blacks were one of the darkest families in Magical Britain so it is obvious that their family magic shouldn't be anything but dark-"

No reaction still.

Hermione cleared her throat. "And then Harry's behavior changed and we reported that to you as well."

Dumbledore nodded.

"His performance in class changed and so did his behavior, and we thought that your concerns were right. I… chose my duty over my best friend and now, it was Harry who was rewarded by the apprentice offer from the Guild and not well… me."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"Do you even know what the Guild is about, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded.

"Professor Mcgonagall told us about them." Ron intervened from beside.

"Did she? Interesting." Dumbledore quipped. He sat up straight in his usual fashion, resting his chin over his fingers. "So let _me_ get this straight. You are here to complain about how _you_ should be the one instead of Harry Potter that should apprentice under the Guild Master's tutelage?"

"Sir, that's-" Hermione tried to defend.

"Yes, Sir. Hermione deserves it." Ron defended.

"Indeed?" Dumbledore looked at him curiously. "I must admit that is admirable off you, Mister Weasley to wish so much for your friend, but…" he paused, "I have decided that Harry Potter would be in a better position than Miss Granger to serve as an apprentice for the Guild."

"Sir, I don't think you are in any position to make that call." Ron retorted hotly. "She has gotten the highest grades while Harry has been at the bottom. Let the Guild see for themselves and decide."

"I am a Battle-Transfiguration Master who has been in the Guild's service for two decades. I am in _some position_ to make that call." Albus defended sternly. The twinkling effect was gone, now that he had decided to be more… _decisive_ , and frankly, he did not seem to miss it all that much. "I have decided that no matter what Mister Potter's marks might have been at Hogwarts, he will be the one apprenticing there, not you, Miss Granger."

"Sir, I am afraid that makes no sense." Hermione retorted, her calm demeanor lost.

"I am devastated by that." Albus quipped.

"This is about the Pureblood thing, isn't it?" Hermione replied heatedly, standing up from her seat. "I am a _muggleborn_ , and hence I am _not getting the chance_. Harry is a Lord of two Houses, and so the world is falling down on his feet to appease him."

Ron agreed heatedly.

"I spied for you, I chose your orders above my friendship and now-"

"And that is _exactly_ why you are here and Mister Potter is there." Dumbledore replied simply.

"What do you mean?" Ron retorted.

"You betrayed your best friend. You sold out your best friend just because someone from the authority ordered you to. I am not sure what it is among muggles, but here in Magical Britain, it is called being a traitor. Being the Leader of the Order of the Phoenix, if there is one thing I hate among everything else, it is _betrayal_. Should I remind you that it was a _traitor_ who betrayed Harry's parents and sold them to Voldemort?"

"Peter Pettigrew sold out the Potters because he wanted power." Hermione defended, not being able to suppress her rage at being compared to the rat. Ron was already mimicking a tomato.

"And what was it that you did? I promised you some rewards and you prostrated down to my feet."

"You are the Leader of the Light." Hermione defended.

"And Voldemort was the Leader of the Dark." Dumbledore defended. "It was a _test_ , Miss Granger. A test to check if you two could be _trusted_ to become Order members. After you agreed, I expected you to realize your folly, but even when Harry bound you with the oath, you still tried to sell his secrets at the point of angering the magic behind the oath. Unfortunately, you _failed_ in both aspects."

"We worked for you, and never got our rewards." Ron countered.

"So that is what this is about. The reward. Well," he sat straighter and looked at them coldly. "Both of you were offered the Prefect position, even though neither of you were chosen for it initially."

"We deserved them." Ron countered.

Dumbledore turned to Ron. 'Let me point it out, Mister Weasley. You have the worst grade among the fifth-years, and have shown no improvement despite being offered the Prefect position. I have had to listen to Professor Mcgonagall's diatribe about how choosing you as the Prefect was one of my biggest mistakes. I believe she wanted Harry and Katie Bell to have the badge."

"It is ALWAYS Harry, isn't it? Isn't it?" Ron yelled. "Damn Bloody Boy-who-lived gets everything."

"I believe _that_ is another proof that you two cannot be trusted for the Order."

I don't believe this." Hermione replied, an undercurrent of hysteria lining her voice. "Thank you, Headmaster. We are sorry to waste your time. Come on Ron." She got out of the chair, and walked out of the room, swiftly followed by Ron.

"That went well."

Albus saw the door close and sighed. The girl was too high-strung and hard-headed. He hoped that she would learn her lesson before things went too far. Her sharp mind seemed to be influenced by Ronald's innate hatred for Purebloods and Slytherin House. He hoped that things would settle soon.

"Now, the next item on the list- get _proper_ teachers at this place. I suppose it will be a pain to convince Cuthbert to resign, and well…. Time to execute the _next_ part of the plan in order… I wonder if _he_ would mind being called at such short notice. Besides, its Halloween and I could do with an announcement." He mused to himself in the empty office.

* * *

Hermione banged open the door to an unused classroom. Ron swiftly followed in. "This is unfair. Professor Dumbledore cheated us."

"You know what I think? It's because Harry is the Lord of two Houses and the boy-who-lived. Or better, he has going to marry that Slytherin bitch. I bet my arse that she and her father did something to arrange all that."

Hermione looked at him and nodded sadly. "I just can't understand why the Headmaster chose him instead of me. Is it because of his power?"

"Dark magic." Ron replied religiously.

"Well, he did change after he started using it, isn't it? Perhaps it is the dark magic that increases power?"

"Hermione, I am not-"

"Think about it, Ron. Even Voldemort is so much feared because he used so much dark magic."

"What are you thinking, Hermione?" Ron asked.

Hermione just stared at him.

* * *

 **Meanwhile in the Slytherin dungeons...**

Ever since Harry had left Hogwarts, a lot of things had changed in Slytherin House. Initially, ever since the duel had taken place, a lot of people had changed their views about Harry Potter. Nobody wanted to be on the bad side of the fifteen-year-old who was able to toe with Albus Dumbledore, and give him a hard fight. Besides, Harry Potter had undergone his magical maturity, which meant that he was even more powerful now than he had been during the duel. Besides, he was now training under the Masters of a Guild for Merlin's sake. No one wanted to be on Harry Potter's bad side, and if that meant that they would need to give Daphne Greengrass, and by extension, her sister Astoria a wide berth, they certainly did not have any problem with it. Elizabeth Rosier had taken Daphne under her wing, and had begun teaching her advanced magics and the way she should carry herself when she rose as her successor in the Slytherin triumvirate.

Harry had been gone for a day and while it felt a little odd not seeing him, Daphne had relentlessly devoted herself to her studies and her special classes. After all the cake and watermelon, her and Harry's relationship was basically a political agreement, and while she did enjoy the little bouts of romance the two shared, her political machinations meant more to her than the idea that sometime in the future, the two of them would fall in love with each other. After all, she had grown up with the idea that in pureblood society, the pureblood women grew up, married men of potentially powerful families, and then remained as a trophy wife for the rest of their lives, mocking other women and bitching against each other in the kitty parties all year. She had known that she was the heiress, and hence, would have to settle for becoming the second wife for some Lord, and then work to continue the Greengrass name and business. At least, Harry did not show any kind of issues with romance and was rather good at it. A good man, a powerful family, lots of connections and some steamy sex at odd intervals- Daphne was sure that love or not, she could live with Harry Potter for the rest of her life. In all possibility, Harry would have gotten himself a proper girlfriend when he returned from the Guild as a Master. There was no point trying to excite herself and develop feelings when she knew that she would have to settle for a second wife position.

"Enjoying your time, aren't you, Greengrass?"

Daphne spun back, the voice distracting her from her thoughts. Draco Malfoy was standing there in front, sneering at her. "Riding on Potter's fame? I wonder how many times you had to spread your legs before he agreed to take you as his concubine."

Daphne smirked at him. "You would, wouldn't you? After all, it's not like you were worthy of anything anyway. You strutted this place the past years, claiming to be Heir Black and now Potter not only holds the Black Lordship, but he has also cast you away from the Black family. I suppose you would be interested in knowing if spreading legs would work in your favor." She looked at him in mock-thoughtfulness. "No, Malfoy, he does not swing the other way. Too bad for you."

Draco turned red. "You bloody whore, how dare you insinuate that about me? I am the heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy."

"And I am the heiress of the Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass, along with the would-be-wife of the Lord of Potter-Black. You should put it in your head that not only do I outrank you, but also, I can whip you and hand you your arse anytime."

Malfoy glared at her. "Just watch it, Greengrass." His mouth shifted into a devilish smirk. After all, the dark lord is back and Potter isn't here to watch your back. You and your sister, two innocent girls, all alone in Slytherin House, who knows what can happen?"

Daphne considered the open threat, twisting her wrist, making sure that her wand is almost at her palm, "that might be, Malfoy. But understand this, if something happens to me, Harry Potter will come for you, and you will just wish that you were dead."

"Bah!" Malfoy spat, "I know Potter. He is the _saintly_ type. He is all mouth but he cannot kill. Now me on the other," he grinned, "I would love to have fun with you and your sister before killing you slowly, intimately."

"When Potter comes for you, you will only wish that he were saintly; or did you forget the duel? You think you can stand up to that?" Daphne challenged. Malfoy blanched slightly. "Off you go, Malfoy. You might think of yourself as his _nemesis_ , but to him, you are a little more than an annoying insect that he can crush on will."

Malfoy took a step back and turned away, his pale face a picture of the anger swirling underneath. Then suddenly, he stopped and turned back. "That might be, Greengrass, and Potter might just come for me. But what about you? Do you _really_ think he will marry someone who has been _molested and played with_ , by Draco Malfoy of all people? After all, you aren't even betrothed yet, just publicized its news to the public. Potter just might _deny_ to marry you. What is going to happen to your family then? Thought about it, Greengrass? I advise you do."

Draco smirked at her suddenly pale face as he turned back and strode away, leaving Daphne with not the most pleasurable of thoughts.

* * *

"Daphne! You are just worrying about it too much." Astoria tried to show her sense, but to her frustration, Daphne seemed to be a bundle of misery. "I am sure that Harry Potter is the gentleman we all know; he wouldn't do that. Besides, he publically announced that you were under his protection, along with that Lovegood girl."

"Yes, but he isn't here. Is he? This entire plan, me standing up for neutrality, getting close to Potter and then betrothal and everything- all of this was considered, taking into account the idea that he would be staying at Hogwarts with me. We never took the fact into account that he could just leave Hogwarts for his education." Daphne defended.

Astoria sighed. Her elder sister could be a right pain in the arse when she acted this stubborn. "Daph, you have lived in Slytherin and protected me all these years. Never has Malfoy scared you like this before. What changed?"

"That was _different_ , Tori." Daphne scoffed. "That was us staying _neutral_ , with Draco running to his daddy with every new problem. Draco was a _little boy_ , plus the dark lord was 'dead'-" she put up fancy air quotes to demonstrate her frustration- "and Harry Potter was _here_ to keep little Malfoy busy. Now, things have changed."

She paused. "The moment we took the stance to be politically aligned with Potter and Black, it changed our stance. We came into the dark lord's sight and got identified as potential enemies. It is only by Merlin's grace that the dark lord is still in hiding, or else Greengrass Manor would be a burning wreck by now."

"But Potter-"

"HARRY IS NOT HERE!" Daphne screamed uncharacteristically, "-and besides, even if like some wild _deus ex machina_ , he would magically arrive to save the day, a lot of things could happen. Malfoy and his cronies, or perhaps the dark lord's agents could capture me or you and mole-" She stopped midway, "-no this cannot happen. Either Harry has to return, or else we will need some protection. Some guaranteed protection."

"Daph, get some courage, you are running scared and-"

"Courage is a fancy name for stupidity invented by GRYFFINDORS!" Daphne yelled out hysterically. " _We are Slytherins_. We value _self-preservation_. I _need_ protection. For myself, and for you. If Dumbledore was the one that sent my _would-be-betrothed_ away from me, then Dumbledore has to be the one to assure us that we will be safe. Besides, I need to talk to Mister Black and father as well." She paused, "DAMN! I cannot even communicate with Harry because of these Guilds and their blocking charms." She shook her head in frustration.

"But Daphne, surely Potter and Mister Black must have thought about it and consulted with-"

"Oh don't be such a Hufflepuff, Tori." Daphne snapped. "We are Slytherins. We don't wait and hope for some _deus ex machina_ to happen whenever we need it. This is a _serious_ problem and there is no way that-" she stopped her furious tirade as an overwhelming feeling of frustration pervaded her.

"GAAAH!"

* * *

 **That night… (at the Halloween feast)**

"And now please welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," Dumbledore smiled widely as he welcomed the roguishly handsome man who stood up and bowed, "Professor Sirius Black!"

Astoria beamed at Daphne and let out a beatific smile, as the other girl simply gapped like a fish out of water. "Deus ex machina," Astoria mouthed, enjoying the one moment in which her _Hufflepuffish_ attitude had scored a point against her super-Slytherin sister.

Daphne blinked again, and again, and then looked back to her sister who was smiling at her. She swallowed and smiled back, returning to her meal, making it a point to look at Draco Malfoy who looked like he had soiled himself. Inwardly, she could not help but yell…

"GAAAAAAH!"


	31. Chapter 31: Back to Ab-normality

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Dumbledore looked sadly at the obliteration of his favorite delicacy. "That was insanely cruel of you, Thor, to destroy such a delicacy. That said, I am sure that the stinger wasn't supposed to blast it like it did."_

 _"I might have retransfigured your spell into a simple blasting curse, professor." Thor grinned. "Descartes' principle, you know."_

* * *

Everywhere his eyes could see, was green and white. Green from the long grasses and vines, and white from the snow all around. He hung upside down, his hands, legs and even his abdomen bound using strange ropes, as a hundred poisonous spears stood levitated all around him, charmed to attack him if he tried to break the ropes using magic.

"Damn, Harry Potter. This is why Severus Snape tells you that you are just like your father. A _Gryffindor._ "

He looked at the poison dripping from the spears as they seemed to inch closer. Not wanting to use any magic, he shut his eyes. "Think Potter. There must be something that you know that can be used to escape." He thought.

Nothing came up.

The spears edged closer.

 _Fuck._

* * *

 **A few hours earlier…**

"High Master, I wish to travel out of the fortress to see this native village you mentioned the first day."

Samuel Thüringen looked at him carefully. Despite it just being three weeks into the term, Harry Potter, or rather Thor, had been quite able to keep up with the rest of the apprentices staying at the Guild. While it was a fact that he was quite young and did not have a lot of education under his belt compared to the others, the boy seemed to have a knack for understanding things and concepts when and where it mattered, and the rest he covered it by studying with due diligence. Even Derek did not scowl and yell about his incapability any more. However, that said, the boy was a recluse at heart. With the exception of a number of people he could count in one finger, the boy stayed all to himself, studying and practicing magic every second he was awake. It was almost as if he had something propelling him to better himself more and more- an odd _enthusiasm_ which felt refreshing to his old bones.

"Yes, I remember; but Thor, I would have thought that you would want to mingle with the other apprentices. Why this… craze of adventure all of a sudden?"

Thor hesitated.

"You can say." Samuel replied supportively.

"I… well it's like I have this feeling inside me, that I am honing one part of my magic, and rejecting the rest. I don't know, maybe it is the family magic that also wants me to hone my powers."

Samuel regarded his answer. "You have Potter and Black family magic. Potters have battle-magic so that isn't an issue but Black? … I don't understand. Blacks were known for their Illusionary tactics. I don't suppose there is any place nearby that would help you hone your _illusionary_ abilities."

Thor cleared his throat. "I am sorry; I should have made myself clearer. When I said family magic, I wasn't referring to _Potter and Black_." He paused, "I was referring to _Peverell and Grim_."

" _Peverell- Grim!"_ Samuel repeatedly slowly, with a touch of reverence, "Ancient families, predating the Wizengamot and modern ancient history by a thousand years. I _did not know_ that you were so _thorough_ with your ancient family history."

"Well…." Thor drawled out evasively. "The Grim family had the _original_ Parseltongue trait that was later known to be as _Slytherin_ trait. It is this magic that I want to learn and discover in the village out there."

"Interesting. So you know the _true_ history of Salazar-"

"Grim. Yes. I took a special day off from my personal training to study his history."

"I wasn't told that Salazar left diaries for Hogwarts students to open at will and examine at leisure." Samuel countered.

"No, he didn't. he kept them in the Chamber of Secrets. I found them after I killed the basilisk."

That shut Samuel up. "I see." He sighed. "Very well, I give you permission to visit the village. I expect you will be able to make your way back here before dinner?"

Thor nodded.

"Very well. Off you go."

 _Why does that boy's attitude feel so familiar? It is almost as if…. No, that cannot be possible._

* * *

 **Back to the present…**

He closed his eyes and focused. There had to be some way to get out of the ropes without making any of those poisoned spears from plunging into his torso. There was no one close by, and he did not think that something would just come and provide a miraculous solution like it had in Hogwarts. He would have to figure out a way to get past these ropes himself. Perhaps Parseltongue could be a way to command the vines but if he failed, there was no stopping the spears from killing him. If only there was a diversion…

Hang on…

 _A diversion…_

His lips twisted into a smile, as he relaxed, gathering his magical power ready for use. Once he had gathered enough power, he opened his eyes.

Instantly, there was another version of him standing just in front of him, smirking at the ropes as the spears diverted towards the new invader and turned towards him. "Release!" he hissed as loudly as possible in Parseltongue, as the ropes left him loose, rushing towards the other invader they sensed on the grounds. The ropes rushed towards the illusion and shot through him, and so did the spears. The illusion flickered and died, but in the meantime, Thor was free and standing on the ground, his hands knuckled into fists and ready for battle.

" _Come now, you overgrown tree."_ He hissed.

The spears propelled themselves magically towards him but he had a runic Imprimis ready at hand, as he sent successive bursts of flame towards the vines, burning them into shreds. He sent flames at the spears but for some reason, they seemed to be indestructible. Having deflected the spears, he vanished the shield and conjured a big fireball, rapidly transfiguring and retransfiguring it in matters of seconds, as he awaited with baited breath as the spears shot upwards high into the air, formed a huge spike towards him for a second strike.

 _Any time now…_

The spike edged closer and closer, and Thor kept on retransfiguring, feeling the temperature rise up to match a bloody furnace, but kept on doing it.

 _Three… two… one…._

He threw the fireball head-on over the spike and at the same time, commanded the ginormous magic at his fingertips to web around the spike, seeping out its momentum.

A perfect cage inside a furnace.

 _Let's see how indestructible you are…_

The spike tried to get out but the web of magic around it bound it like a hundred chains, draining out its momentum, and holding it captive, just like the way Dumbledore had taught, while the super-heated fireball slowly seared and eviscerated it into soot. After two anxious minutes and a very, very taxing struggle, the entire spike was ash.

"Crap." He panted. "That took a lot out of me." Instantly his danger sense flared as he ducked. A poisonous yellow-looking spell flashed out and had he not ducked, it would have hit in the chest.

He instantly rolled and stood up, two energy bursts ready in both hands, as he turned to stare at his new nemesis.

Or rather, nemeses.

Standing opposite him, wearing all kinds of amulets and what-not, faces painted with what seemed to be runic structures, were a group of people, holding their long staves towards his direction. Even from there, he could sense the magic empowering the spell that was about to be hurled towards his person.

" Hey wait!" Thor called out, "I am not your enemy."

" _Who are you?"_ One from the tribes shot back. He had a short stature, with what seemed to be some kind of bump on his back. The strange hissing that accompanied the reply did not go missed.

 _Right, Parselmouths. I should have known._

" _I am a student. I came here to learn magic."_ He hissed.

" _A... student? To learn magic? You speak our tongue. Who are you?"_ The other man shoot back. The rest of the tribes drew their staves back and held them steady, apparently not yet trusting Thor to not attack.

" _I am…"_ He considered his words. There was no point in saying about how he was a Black and everything, since the Black family was completely a British thing… _"My family can talk to snakes as well. I come from far away. My name is Grim."_

" _Grim?"_ An old-looking woman walked out, towards him. One of the younger-looking fellows tried to stop her, but she did not listen. _"There are no Grims. They have been dead for more than a thousand years. There was a Grim, who fell from the sky fifty years ago, but you are_ _ **not**_ _him. Who are you?"_

Thor raised his eyebrows. A Grim fell from the sky? Fifty years ago? Suddenly the picture on the Black wardstone chamber came to mind. His doppelganger with grey eyes. Fell from the sky? Could it be… a portkey gone wrong or something?

" _I do not know of any Grims who fell from the sky. I am a student and my Master told me that people who talk to snakes live here. I came here to learn from you."_

Another man spoke up. _"How did you break through our defenses?"_

" _I am a mage. I can fight."_

" _Well then, fight me. If you win, we will welcome you into our tribe and our magic. If I win, you will die."_

" _And if I want to go away, then?"_

" _If you wanted to go out, you shouldn't have entered into our realm in the first place. Either you fight and win, or you die. If you win, you can go back when you please."_

 _Of course. How on earth had I ever expected any of this to be easy…._ Thor mused.

* * *

Apparently, the tribe did not believe in any formal decorum for dueling, for no sooner had he agreed, the man had woven his long staff and tapped on the ground, manifesting a large circle of fire with him and Thor in the middle.

" _If you can throw me out of the circle, you win. If I throw you out, you lose."_

 _Simple rules. Really._ Thor thought sarcastically.

" _Very well."_ His wand went spinning into his palm as he started the runic matrix for an Imprimis on spot. A wand decreased the power requirements by a factor of three, and that was why wandless magic was so difficult, except for the weakest spells. Most wizards got drained way too quickly if they tried wandless magic, except for extremely powerful individuals like Dumbledore or any of the Masters. There a valid reason for it too. Master Stark had explained it to him. Unlike what people thought, wandless magic was not a measure of power. It was human biology. Plain and simple.

When a wizard called for his magical power, it travelled through his veins, and unfortunately, the veins were made for a small amount of magical transfer per second. Any more and the nerves started to flare, causing the caster a feeling that could range from mild unpleasantness to outright pain. Any more than that, and it could damage the nerves. In fact, that was exactly what the Cruciatus did- it overpowered a person's nerves with magical power, causing the victim enormous pain and agony, often blowing the nerves up. In short, since a lot of power was wasted as heat when trying to draw out magic on their own, most people relied on wands- the crutches of the magical society.

Thor held up his wand in an offensive manner. Crutch or not, wands multiplied the spell's power by a factor of three. And power was what he needed to win this fight.

The tribal man hissed imperceptively, saying some kind of obscure incantation as huge shackles shot out from the staff towards Thor who simply transfigured the incoming attack into pieces of rocks and propelled them back to the man, who dodged, all the while snarling at him in fury. He swore and sent a powerful burst of magic, slamming his shaft on the ground, causing powerful seismic waves that shook the earth, blowing up exactly where Thor was standing. Unfortunately for him, Thor was already in the air, levitating himself wandlessly as he raised his wand towards the man and whispered in Parseltongue.

" _Malleus crepitus maxima."_

A huge shaft of air and energy slammed against the man, hurling him away from the circle and throwing him against the trunk of a rather ancient-looking tree, rendering him unconscious. He slowly levitated himself down onto the ground while a few of the tribals gathered toward the fallen man, trying to wake him up.

" _Broken his rib cage. He will need medical assistance."_ Thor could hear one of them speaking quickly.

" _I can help."_ He offered, before hastily adding, _"I have medicine. If you allow me."_

" _You can?"_ The old woman looked at him skeptically.

" _I can."_

The woman seemed to consider it. _"Do it."_

Thor slowly undid his belt, the very same which Sirius had gifted him, and plucked out a tiny box, and tapped it with his hand. Instantly, the box enlarged into a large trunk which opened with a click. Inside it, were several potion vials containing all sorts of draughts and potions he had procured and kept in reserve for emergency use during the summer. He took out a pain-reliever potion, along with a revitalizing elixir and Skele-gro, and closed the trunk, miniaturizing it back to its original form and putting it back to his belt which he wore back. Moving ahead, he poured the pain-reliever into the unconscious man's mouth before asking, _"Can you show me where the rib has broken?"_

One of the men showed him the area. Harry sent his wand back to his holster and touched the part with his bare palm and whispered. _"Ossis Dispersimus."_ He poured the Skele-Gro into the man's mouth and then stepped back. _"He should be all right in a few hours."_

" _Who are you?"_ The woman reiterated.

Thor shrugged. _"I told you. I am a student. I am a Grim by blood, and I wish to learn your magic."_

" _Where are you from?"_

Thor hesitated. _"Magical Britain."_

Almost instantly, a lot of people hissed in fury. The woman shot them an angry look and then turned back to explain, _"Do not mind them. There was another. One that came from your land here, many years ago. He was driven away by the Grim that fell from the sky."_

 _Someone from Britain? Could it be…?_

" _Could he also speak the serpent tongue?"_

The woman nodded.

Thor raised his wand and summoned his magic. Dust gathered up from the ground as he manipulated them to form an image very similar to the Tom Riddle he had met in the Chamber of Secrets all those years ago. _"Is this the man?"_

The woman preened a little and then slowly replied. _"He looks similar to the one that tormented us. Are you his descendant?"_ She eyed him warily.

" _What? NO. This man… the one who tormented your people, he killed my parents. I am learning magic so that I can…"_ he hesitated _, "so that I can kill him."_

The woman seemed to believe him. _"You have come to our land. You have fought on our rules and you have won fairly. You are a Grim and you have saved one of us. We welcome you to our land and our lore."_

Thor grinned.

* * *

"I hope you had a most illuminating day, Thor."

"Yes, sir." Thor grinned. "It was positively illuminating."

"Did you get to go beyond the entrance?"

"Yes. Sir."

"Indeed. What did you do?" Samuel asked.

"I'm not allowed to reveal it, High Master. I am under oath."

Samuel looked a little disheartened. "Alas! I thought I might finally figure out some way to get past the vines."

"You mean you never got in?" Thor looked at him in shock.

"No." Samuel sighed. "The defenses increased with every single use of magic. I suppose Parseltongue did the trick?"

Thor considered it. "I will just say that you have excellent instincts today, High Master." He smiled and walked out of the office.

* * *

 **Five weeks later…**

"Are you ready to leave, Thor?"

Thor considered it. He had fallen into the schedule of studying and practicing without any kind of intervention except during the classes, to which he looked up to for further advancements in his knowledge. Even Master Prince was treating him like anyone else, and for him, that was great advancements. It was true that it had been only two months into the term, it felt as if he was there forever. Suddenly the idea of returning to Hogwarts, enjoying the feasts, getting angry at Snape, yelling in frustration and the school-gossip, it all fell alien to him. The initial week, he had felt slightly homesick since there was no way he could talk to Sirius, since the charms did not allow the communication mirrors to work. The fortress was an isolated, magical environment, that was perfect for only one thing- studying and honing one's skills. Even his stature had increased a little, courtesy to the different food and nutritional potions he was given to ingest as part of the diet. His personality had truly calmed down, and he had become much more logical and had learned to stem down his emotional reactions. Things had accelerated ever since Master Prince had finally deemed him ready for private sessions to intensify his knowledge and pull him up to the required level of knowledge. Once they had crossed the _adversary-teacher-student_ phase, Master Prince or rather, Derek, as he had asked him to call him, was a brilliant teacher.

"Harry?"

The mention of his original name shook him out of his reveries. He had forgotten what it meant to be Harry Potter and had settled in, quite comfortably in his Thor persona. Thor, who was powerful yet junior to all; one who knew how to work with due diligence and lived a reclusive life after classes. Thor who spent his evenings in the tribal village learning all sorts of things he never thought possible- the true versatility of the serpent tongue.

"Yes, Professor?"

Dumbledore eyed him curiously. "I asked, are you ready to go back to Hogwarts?"

Thor stayed quiet.

"Should I think about it as a _No_?"

Thor hesitated. "It's not like that, Professor. I want to go back and meet Sirius, and Daphne, and well, everyone there back at Hogwarts."

"I sense a _but_ ," Dumbledore replied.

"It's… I have kind of... well. I have settled myself as Thor, and now, I will have to become Harry Potter again, and the moment I enter the gates of Hogwarts, I will be observed, commented upon, and will become the object of people's prejudice." He looked up. "Here, I spend my evenings learning intricate magical lore in Parseltongue. There back in Britain, people will start vilifying the moment I hiss out loud."

"I understand." Dumbledore replied. "What do you want me to do?"

Thor pondered over it. "I suppose… I suppose I should go once. Besides, I haven't talked to Sirius or Daphne for a long time. I will be returning in two days, right?"

"Yes, you will. Are you interested in taking classes during the two days? I hope you understand that I won't be available to teach you, because of my duties."

"I understand. I am not allowed to take any books from the library to Hogwarts, am I?" He gave a pleading look.

Dumbledore laughed. "No, you don't. However, you are in luck. I have an intricate collection of books on battle-transfiguration and you are permitted to peruse through them at your leisure." He paused, "Would you like to stay in Gryffindor tower?"

Thor thought about it. Did he really want to go back and hang out at the tower, and meet his betraying best friends at every corner?

"No. I can manage my own room. I kind of, created one for myself while at Hogwarts and put it under the Fidelius."

Dumbledore guffawed. "You put a Hogwarts classroom under the _Fidelius_? Your father and godfather would have thought of it as a prank well-executed. Speaking of which, Sirius is now the DADA professor, so you can simply meet everyone at Hogwarts?"

"Sirius is DADA professor? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Skipped my mind." Dumbledore quipped. "Now, are you ready? Or does Thor need a little more time to transform back into Harry Potter?"

'No, no he doesn't." He answered. "That is because, I have decided not to let other's prejudices affect me anymore. I am Thor. An apprentice in the Transfiguration-Masters Guild. Anyone who has a problem with what I am…. Well, they can deal with it."

"You do understand that you cannot mention your pseudonym out there publically?"

Thor nodded.

"Very well. I hope you recognize this." He produced the familiar red cloth as Thor, now once again Harry Potter, touched it. With a very familiar tug at the navel, the portkey ushered them away.

* * *

 **Hogwarts.**

There was a sudden flash in the empty Headmaster's office, distracting Fawkes who let out an irritated screech as Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore appeared out of nowhere. The portkey felt almost normal, not surprising considering the fact that Derek had him portkeyed all over the fortress thirty-seven times in two hours, until he was satisfied that Thor could portkey without losing his head or splinching himself in the process. The same had been done for apparation but luckily for him, Thor could apparate by the fifth try. Not that it meant the end of troubles, since Derek wasn't satisfied until Thor could apparate silently.

"Hello Fawkes." Harry wished, and Fawkes squawked back, not at all in his most pleasured tone.

"Sorry." Harry laughed. It was strange to be in this office once again, after two months of that life. It almost felt like, something from another life.

"Ahem!" Dumbledore coughed. "I guess I should tell you somethings beforehand. Dolores Umbridge is in Azkaban, she was arrested On Halloween."

"My first day at the Guild. And there I was thinking why I was being kicked around by the Masters. Must have been the Halloween effect." He laughed.

Dumbledore guffawed. "Well, I already mentioned that Sirius is the DADA professor. Alongside that, I got a young professor named Jonathan Drizzle, who has a NEWTS in History of Magic to teach the subject."

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry replied in an awestruck voice, "so much just for me? If I didn't know any better, I would have thought that you were trying too hard to appease me."

Dumbledore laughed.

* * *

It was time for dinner in the Great Hall, with all students filling in. The professors were sitting on the staff table, waiting for the Headmaster to arrive in the Great Hall. There was a hush of whispers as Albus Dumbledore strode into the Great Hall from the antechamber wearing sweeping robes of aquiline blue. He walked up to his throne and stood, facing the students sitting on the tables in front of him.

"Good evening to everyone. Before we start the feast, I would like to give out an important announcement. As I believe you all will remember, Harry Potter was chosen for the Transfiguration Masters Guild as my apprentice."

Malfoy sniggered in the crowd. "Just you wait. I am sure Potter failed in performing adequately and was thrown out from the Guild." Pansy Parkinson snorted at the thought. Daphne frowned at the girl and looked back at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore continued, "As my apprentice, I invited him to stay at Hogwarts for a two-day break before he would be rejoining his education at the Guild. I must impress upon everyone, students-" his glanced subtly at Ron and Hermione who were downright glaring at him, "—and teachers-", he looked at Sirius who was seated next to Snape, though anyone, including Sirius could tell it that the Headmaster meant to emphasize it to Snape, "- that he is not a student of this school anymore. He is my apprentice and is thus, not bound by the rules of the school" - Snape snorted here-"and will defend himself if he is, in anyway attacked in any form, without fear of punishment. As it is, I will implore others to treat him with fairness and allow him to spend the two days without any issues. Thank you."

A few whispers began in the crowd.

"And now, I welcome my apprentice, Harry James Potter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Everyone looked in silence as a sound of footsteps was heard as a vividly different-looking, glassless Harry Potter walked into the Great Hall. Instead of the usual Hogwarts robes in which everyone was accustomed to seeing him, he was adorning dragon-hide robes with green linings on the edges. There was a billowing silk cloak with his hood fallen back over his neck. Strong dragon-hide boots made a thumping sound, with the periodic tap-tap noise produced by the silver staff that he carried with himself.

Silence.

Everyone stared at the person standing in front of them. The Gryffindors were staring in wonder about how different Harry seemed to look. The Ravenclaws on the other hand, seemed to wonder more about the staff that seemed to hold with ease in his hand. It was made of a goblin silver and had a thestral head on top of it, looking eerily similar to a cane. It looked stylish and very different from the wooden twig-like staff they had seen Mad-Eye-Moody carry around in fourth year. The Slytherins on the other hand, seemed to wonder what kind of dark magics Potter must have learnt, given how he practically screamed dangerous. The Hufflepuffs were more interested in his robes, what with the way he had too odd-looking crests built on either side of his dress robes. On the right, there was a runic representation of a snake, while on the left, there was a strange triangle with some odd lines drawn inside it. Dumbledore had merely smiled when Harry had shown him the Peverell crest but had not commented anything, keeping him in ignorance for the moment.

"That is Harry Potter?" A young first-year Gryffindor mumbled out. A group of students stared at the firstie who ducked in embarrassment.

"Professor, I would like to go and sit with Miss Greengrass, if you do not mind?" He asked Dumbledore who nodded.

Every eye that belonged to anyone dressed in green and silver stared in silence as Harry Potter stalked towards the Slytherin table. He edged near to where Daphne was sitting beside Tracy Davis and requested gently. "Miss Davis, can I sit here with Daphne?"

Tracey just nodded, shifting aside and giving him some space. From the Gryffindor table, Ron and Hermione were glaring daggers at him, though fortunately or unfortunately, their glares were met with complete indifference. Harry sat beside Daphne and slowly nudged her. "I am sorry it took longer than I expected it would."

"Did you _have_ to come and sit over here, Potter?" Daphne muttered back.

"I thought that I should spend some time with my would-be-betrothed." Harry replied back.

"Your would-be-betrothed whom you left all alone without a care for two months." Daphne shoot back giving him an icy glare. She instantly lost her angry expression as her cold, blank façade returned. "Leave." She returned to her meal and begun biting small portions of food.

 _Damn. Looks like she is really angry. You screwed up big time, Thor. Crap, I guess I am more used to being Thor than I assumed._

"I am sorry." He tried.

No reaction.

 _Fuck. Okay, what would I normally do in this case?_

His mind went back to what should be done. The regular training had dimmed his emotional reactions and when thought out logically, it wasn't his fault. After all, he fully remembered Daphne telling him that she had no problems to him being gone.

"Daphne? You do remember telling me that you had no problems with me going there?"

Daphne gave him an icy look. All right, that wasn't perhaps, the best thing to say. Damn! No Master had taught him how to deal with such situations.

 _Being Thor was much more simple._

 _Shut up._

 _You agree with me._

 _Shut up._

Harry decided over his options. Daphne did not seem any more convinced to talk to him than Malfoy looked ready to dance in a tutu. He looked at the fresh meal in front of him, the smell radiating out was much more exotic than what he had had for the last two months.

Angry Girlfriend? People staring? What was the best option?

Harry made up his mind. Taking up the spoon and knife, he began his meal.


	32. Chapter 32 : Complications Part-1

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Harry decided over his options. Daphne did not seem any more convinced to talk to him than Malfoy looked ready to dance in a tutu. He looked at the fresh meal in front of him, the smell radiating out was much more exotic than what he had had for the last two months._

 _Angry Girlfriend? People staring? What was the best option?_

 _Harry made up his mind. Taking up the spoon and knife, he began his meal._

* * *

 **Two weeks earlier…**

" _Your education has now come to an end, Thor. We have shared whatever you could learn regarding your subject. The knowledge that remains is used in Healing and I am sure you do not want to be one."_

Thor nodded to her. The old woman who had welcomed him into the tribe was a kind of… Elder to the people—one who usually taught Parseltongue and the knowledge about the powers that the magical language could procure. It had taken him a total of three weeks of continuous visiting followed by four hours of education in Parseltongue before he left for the fortress to sleep.

" _And now there are only two things that we can impart to you."_

Thor nodded.

" _The first is an awakening ritual. It awakens whatever it is there inside you that is still dormant. This ritual vitalizes any and all powers that might have stayed dormant inside you. It is equally possible that you might get nothing out of it."_

" _All right."_

" _The other thing that we can give you is your staff. But you seem to hold a strong connection with your wand and thus we have decided on something better."_

* * *

He had to lay aside his clothes, his wand and his accessories away, and had to lie down, completely bare on the snowy ground, as the rune matrices drawn all around him activated and began to glow with eldritch energies. The old woman, along with two other druids, stood on three sides, slamming their staffs over the ground again and again as the runes glowed, as glowing purple mist materialized out of the runes and began to seep into Thor's body who began to convulse.

" _The ritual has begun."_

They tapped their staffs powerfully on the ground, the vibrations emanating out energy vibes that seemed to further induce some kind of reaction from the runes which changed color to crimson and then to jet black, only to turn dazzling bright white before they all converged and got soaked into Thor's body with an explosive reaction. When the mist had faded, the entire set of runic matrices were gone and a robe-less Thor lay on the floor.

" _Do you feel any change in yourself?"_

" _No." "Yes."_

Thor rubbed his eyes as he tried to understand what was going on. He was the one who had said 'NO'. The problem was, there was another voice—the very same that he had heard on arriving at the Guild for the first time, speaking out 'Yes' at the same time.

 _Am I dreaming?_

 _Don't think so. If you were, you wouldn't be looking so confused._

Okay, apparently there was a voice inside his head. A voice that was actively engaged in conversation with him.

 _Who are you?_

 _I am a Warmage._

 _I meant your name._

 _Oh. Well then, you should have said that, boy. Ignotus Sagittarius Peverell at your service._

 _Damn._

 _I'm not sure which part of my name caused you to swear._

 _Nothing. Are you like… the other soul from the wand?_

 _Well, yes, though I am not sure I like to be addressed that way. Would you like to be addressed as-are you the other soul that died and unfortunately had to be reborn as a puny kid?_

 _Uh... no._

 _My point exactly._

The old woman shook his hand softly, making him return back to reality from the depths of his mind. _"Yes?"_ He replied hesitantly.

" _Do you feel any different?"_

" _A little."_ He tried.

The old woman sighed. _"Very well. Let us go through the other part now. Your staff."_

" _My… staff."_ Thor repeated. _"I'm not sure I would prefer a staff rather than a wand."_

The old woman smiled beatifically.

* * *

An hour later, Thor found himself sitting inside a runic circle, though this time he was fully dressed up, complete with his accessories and other stuff. Opposite him, sat another man- the one with the hump at the back whom he had met the first day, who was apparently the staff-maker for the tribe.

" _A staff is different from the wand. While a wand… increases your spell power, a staff increases your finesse and control over magic. Besides, after what we are about to do, you will be able to use your staff and your wand at the same time."_

' _Like in two hands?"_

" _No. We are going to merge them. But first, let me see your wand."_

What followed was a series of intricate runic magic as the Elder somehow deconstructed the magics inside the yew wand and then incorporated them into a substance they called mithril, which was apparently the strongest magical substance in the world- the only natural thing on earth that was magically resistant to dragon fire. Thor wondered if the same held true for Fiendfyre as well. The Elder chanted something in Parseltongue as the mithril began to condense and restructure into a thin cylindrical wand-like solid, which got enclosed between goblin-silver on all sides as they stretched to form a long, slender cane-like staff, not unlike the one he had seen Lucius Malfoy use at all times. However, while Malfoy's cane was served as a mere prosthetic and a good place to hide a wand, this staff was capable of so much more.

" _And now, we personalize this staff to your magic. Put your palm on top of the lid and let your magic flow."_

Thor did as he was told and felt the goblin-silver melt and reform into something else. When it was over, he lifted his palm to see that a miniature thestral head form beneath a spherical head. He pressed the head of the shaft and could almost feel the staff buzzing with magic, the sensation being much more powerful and more… refined than the wand had ever been.

 _Interesting. I never thought that a staff could feel more… comfortable than my wand. Then again, this does contain the essence of my wand._ The voice in his mind expressed. Thor ignored it.

" _It feels good. Even better than my wand did."_

The staff maker smiled at the honest compliment. _"Thank you. You will be able to shorten the staff or lengthen it back according to your need by channeling your magic. I suppose you could lengthen it to seem like a walking stick, like I have seen many from the other part of the world use."_

 _Right._

* * *

The voice, or rather Ignotus Peverell was a right bastard. The initial conversation was somewhat nice, but as time passed, it seemed to consider itself the dominant soul out of the two and kept on ordering what to do and what not. Not that it had been a disadvantage because Ignotus was a bloody great Warmage and his knowledge on the subject was unparalleled, but the snobby attitude did not help matters.

 _How dare you think yourself as the dominant form, you irksome boy? If not for me, you would never be able to make it this far._

 _Excuse me? This is my body. You are the one who is living here rent free._

 _Rent-free is it? I cannot believe it. The soul of the greatest Warmage of the world, Ignotus Sagittarius Peverell, it just had to be reborn as a petulant, irksome brainless maggot? I wonder if Andros managed to land some blood curse on me. Must be, or else…._

 _Just shut up._

 _Pay respect to your betters, boy. If not for me, you would be nothing._

 _Really? Pray tell me what you have done for me?_

 _Who gave you all of that ancient knowledge? Who taught you all of those techniques that saved your sorry arse during those training sessions? Who gave you the knowledge you used to woo that maiden with the fairest arse my eyes have seen in the last two millennia?_

Oh, and above everything, the man just _had_ to be an _extremely crass_ individual.

 _Daphne is my would-be-betrothed._

 _Didn't stop you from staring at her b-_

And it would just not shut up.

At least there was one thing that Ignotus agreed with him. Knowledge. Both agreed to the fact that unless the body was versatile in magic, neither soul could be perfectly safe. Since Thor held the major hold over the body, Ignotus had unwillingly agreed to the fact that Thor needed to be better, faster and more powerful. Thus he had silenced his continuous diatribe about how he, the greatest Warmage of all times, was stuck in a teenager's body like a bloody symbiont.

* * *

 **Back to the present…**

Harry Potter sat alone in the Room of Requirement, which had manifested his room at the Guild, except perhaps the bed was a little more comfortable. His eyes were closed, and from the first glance, one would think that he was meditating. In reality, he was locked in another argument with his ancient counterpart within the confines of his own mind. At least, his body got some rest during such events- Merlin knew what might have happened if his own body had jumped on to strangle itself.

 _Daphne is my betrothed, and it is my duty to-_

 _She is just a stupid distraction, trying to manipulate us and then force her judgement on us. You are better without her. We should be back at the Guild, teaching you things that actually could help keeping you and by extension, me alive._

 _Not an option. I have to know what is wrong. Besides, I haven't met Sirius. I haven't met Hedwig. I have to meet with Daphne and I-_

 _She is just a distraction. She does not love you. She said that yourself._

 _Point._

 _See even you agree._

 _But that's not-_

 _Let us just return back to the Guild._

 _No. I need to see what is wrong. I know that I missed Christmas, and New year and everything, despite promising her to return after a couple of weeks. I need to know what is wrong with her._

 _She doesn't love you. Why do you care?_

 _I care because- I just care. I don't need to explain myself with an overgrown child._

 _Why you filthy little-_

"Harry?"

The entire mental battle silenced in a second as Harry got up and hugged his godfather who hugged him back.

"How are you, godson?" Sirius asked with a smile.

Harry smiled back. "I'm good."

"How is the Guild? I can see that you are getting some serious, earth-shattering training." Sirius asked casually.

 _You have no idea._ "Yes, a little."

"It shows." He pressed his shoulders lightly. "My little godson has grown."

"So has my godfather. Who would have thought that Sirius Black would become a professor?" Harry teased back.

Sirius stepped back and grinned. "We decided that it was for the best, Besides, your girlfriend and her sister needed some protection, so I decided that I could go over and live at the castle, and the DADA job was available." He paused, "-though I must say, I never thought that I would love the job, though none are like you."

Harry laughed.

"Well, I am no more a Hogwarts student, and I will be gone by tomorrow. For the record, I never thanked you for the Room of Requirement. This room is outstanding in every way. It is the only thing I miss about Hogwarts except for-"

"Daphne?"

Harry nodded. "what is wrong with her? She seemed so cold last night at dinner."

Sirius sighed. "Harry, you have been away for two months. A lot of things have happened."

Harry looked concerned. "What happened, Sirius?"

Sirius looked crestfallen. "Cyrus Greengrass is dead. He was butchered to pieces and thrown in the middle of Diagon Alley."

"WHAT?"

* * *

Harry could not believe it. "Ho- How did that happen?"

Sirius looked down on the ground. "I have no idea. He was supposed to be at a meeting with the rest of the neutral faction and he said that he wanted to meet some new potential allies. Me and the others waited for him for over an hour, and then, we went off to search for him. We tried everything—Patronus messages, private spells, anything and everything we could. The next morning, we found his body hanging in Diagon Alley—mangled and mutilated, with the word TRAITOR engraved on his torso. There was a huge public reaction about it, but no one, not even the DMLE Forensics Department could find anything. Apparently, he had been killed using mundane weapons, something that Lucius Malfoy further used to instigate the rest of the neutral faction against the muggles and muggleborns. It was a huge and messy affair."

He paused. "I had to swear in as the de facto head of the neutrals on your behalf, and I have been managing things ever since. I called in Remus and a couple of friends and arranged some security at Greengrass Manor. Daphne's mother is off to her maternal family while both sisters are here, under my protection."

"When- when did it happen?"

"December 3. Daphne's birthday."

Harry did not know what to say. He knew that the girl had always adored her father as her model, and wanted to become exactly like him. Cyrus dying on her birthday, it must have been a great shock to her, and given what he knew about Hogwarts and Slytherin House, people like Malfoy wouldn't have missed the chance to sprinkle salt on her wounds every chance they got.

"And I wasn't there for her." He muttered, more to himself than to Sirius.

"Harry, this isn't your fault."

"It is, Sirius. I should have been there for her. Why didn't Dumbledore inform me?"

"She asked him not to do so. She said that she did not want you to stop your training, just because of her. Apparently, Miss Greengrass is very attached to the idea that she is merely a trophy wife for you, and now after what happened, that idea has become her reality. She believes that you do not care for her, considering how you were supposed to be here by a couple of weeks, and then Christmas and New Year happened, and lots of people came and spoke a lot, and she got hurt even more. The insensitive comments from other students didn't help either." He paused, "-there is only so much that I can do as a Professor."

"I should have been here, Sirius. Why didn't anyone tell me anything? Yeah I know that she wanted it, but surely you all-"

"We decided that the situation was mostly under control." Sirius looked crestfallen and guilty. "It was a joint decision between me and Dumbledore. We agreed that it was better to allow you to finish a significant part of your training before you were brought here. Else, the break between your training could have had detrimental effects, and we did not want that."

Harry shook his head blankly. A part of him wanted to yell out to the heavens about the unfairness of it all. A part of him wanted to run and hug his girlfriend, comfort and apologize to her. A part of her wanted to rage at Sirius and Dumbledore for taking such an inconsiderate decision.

 _I have to meet her. I have to go find her._

 _You should concentrate upon your train-_

 _Shut the fuck up._

 _You uncouth, pretentious-_

But no words came up, as pain and anger shot through his mind, completely vanishing the other voice as he ran out of the room, with just one single fact reiterating inside his mind.

 _I need to find Daphne._

* * *

He rushed to the Slytherin dungeons and luckily, found Tracey Davis standing at the entrance talking to another Slytherin girl whom he did not know. He rushed towards her as she turned towards the corridor to find a panting Harry Potter standing in front of her.

"Potter-"

"I need to see Daphne!"

"Potter, I don't think-"

"NOW!"

Tracey flinched. "Okay, come with me. Stand in the common room. I will get her."

Harry nodded. He followed her as she stepped inside the Slytherin common room. It had not changed in the last three years but Harry did not have eyes to look around. Tracey fidgeted a bit.

"Potter, you wait here. I will get her."

Harry nodded. Tracey seemed to think and make up her mind, before she sprinted into one of the serpentine paths that led to the dorm rooms. He fidgeted a little and then snuck out the shortened version of his wand and lengthened it into the cane, supporting his own weight over it as he had become accustomed to doing.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you are doing here, Potter?"

Harry spun around to find Draco Malfoy standing behind him, wearing a smug grin on his face. He felt a rather powerful urge to drive his cane through Malfoy's smug face and see if that grin remained, but he withheld it.

"Don't mess with me, Malfoy. I do not have time for your useless braying." He scoffed, before turning behind to watch the path through which Tracey had vanished.

"Of course, I knew it that you wouldn't have time. After all, you didn't even have time when your betrothed's father was chopped to pieces and hung in Diagon Alley." Malfoy grinned evilly. "I heard that they engraved the word TRAITOR on his chest."

"I suppose your dad told you all about it?" Harry hissed, trying to level best to bring back the ironclad control that he had settled over his Thor persona.

"My father?" Draco looked confused. "You are addled in the head, Potter. How would my father know about this? He is a nobleman, who does not care about such _filth_." He sneered.

Harry considered the idea of chopping him into pieces.

"Of course, of course," he returned softly, "How could I forget? After all, your father wasn't the one who was caught under Voldemort's _Imperius_? He wasn't the one who knelt and kissed Voldemort's robes like cattle-" he found the smug grin on Draco's face vaporize as his face turned red, proving that his technique was working- "and it was not your Father who was thrown on his arse by his own House elf."

"Mind your tongue, POTTER!" Draco snarled, "you will not speak like that about my father."

"Or else?" Harry challenged.

Draco's face twisted into another grin. "Oh I don't know. Your betrothed's father was butchered. You are no longer at Hogwarts. Who knows, if you put one toe out of the line, then something might happen to your dear Daphne… after all, you wouldn't want to marry an already molested-"

Draco couldn't say anything more. Why? Because he was already screaming his lungs out as he felt his bones shatter one by one. His muscles sprained and twisted and he could feel his joints twisting and then he saw flubberworms and spiders enter his body through his mouth.

Draco screamed again.

"Like the pain, Draco?" Harry hissed, " _trust me_ , this is nothing compared to what it coming for you if you even look at her the wrong way, I will know and trust me, there are _no walls_ that can _stop m_ e."

"The dark lord will come for you, Potter, and he will make you squeal. You will rue the day you-" and he screamed again.

Harry levitated Draco in the air wandlessly and brought him closer to his face. He could see the entire Slytherin house gathered in the common room, watching in shock and in some cases, anger at him levitating Draco as if he were nothing in front of him. Harry did not care. "Oh you will try that, wouldn't you? Well, you just hope that your dark lord comes out of hiding, instead of staying in the shadows like the rat he keeps as a servant. You better hope that whatever he does is at least lethal, because if I stay alive, you will only wish that you would be dead." He held Draco by his shirt and hissed, "the next time you say something unflattering to Daphne or Astoria, remember- I will not come for you," he paused, "—but for your _families_."

Draco's face paled but he did not say anything.

"That goes to him, and to every one of you. Anyone that even utters one insensitive-"

"ENOUGH!"

Harry spun back on hearing the voice, dropping Draco on the ground unceremoniously, as he stared into the eyes of one Daphne Greengrass. She was wearing her sleeping robes, as she stared at him with her cold, emotionless eyes.

"Daph-"

"Lord Potter, I humbly request you to leave me." She returned, in a monotone.

"Daphne, what's wr-"

"PLEASE?"

Harry considered it. "No." He replied simply. Daphne simply stared at him as her eyes turned more cold.

"Very well." She took a deep breath. "Very well." She made up her mind. "I suppose you want to talk. Then talk."

"Somewhere private." Harry replied in an intentionally cold voice.

Daphne stared at him. "Fine!" She waved her wand as her bedroom robes transfigured into formal black robes. "Come with me." She walked out of the Slytherin common room, a tensed and concerned Harry Potter following her.

* * *

Back in the Room of Requirement, the witch and the wizard stood opposite each other, as cold blue eyes stared into concerned green eyes. Daphne waved her wand once again, as her clothes returned to their original form. "You have come back after two months. I can understand why you would want to meet me so urgently at this time." She had just begun to disrobe when Harry snatched her fingers away and shook her firmly.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

She didn't answer.

"Daph, I know about what happened. Sirius just told me, and he also told me that you refused to allow me to know about it all. I know that I should have been there with you and I am sorry for what happened and-"

"Are you done?"

Harry stopped midway between his apology speech. "What?"

"I asked if you were done. Since you do not want pleasure, I am not sure what I can do for my would-be husband. If you are done, I would like to return to my dorm."

"Daphne, I-"

Daphne stared at him. "You what?"

"I care for you. I am sorry, _believe me_ , if I had known-"

" _If. I. Had. Known."_ Daphne punctuated the words, still in her emotionless, cold voice. "Do you know how much I repeat the same words every day? If I had known, I would have never searched for you on the sixth floor. If I had known, I would never have asked you to teach me. If I had known, I wouldn't have asked you to be betrothed to me. If I had known, -" she sobbed, "—my father wouldn't have been _butchered_ like he was."

"Daphne I-"

"Remember you said how your family were butchers who turned into traders? Well I can see how the Potter family traded my father to be butchered." She hissed. "I. Hate. You. Harry. Potter."

"Do you really mean that?"

Daphne stared at him.

"Why are you still keeping up the betrothal then?" Harry asked.

"Because that was what my father wanted. His wish to keep the Greengrass family safe led to this decision. I will honor his wish. I will marry you, I will come to your bed, I will provide you all the pleasure you need, Harry Potter." She paused, "-and, I will feel content as I watch you suffer, knowing that your wife hates you. That it is all a big illusion. Just like the illusion you showed me here in this very room all those weeks ago."

Harry stood completely shocked at the changes in his would-be-wife. His weeks of training sunk in as he approached the incredibly emotional situation with cold logic. "And what if I cancel the betrothal right now?"

Daphne laughed coldly. "Empty threat, Potter. You are smart, and you are cunning. I know that if you wanted, you could have just done that already. You wouldn't have wiped the floor with Draco and threatened everyone to be respectable to me." She laughed again. "If you really had the mentality to do that, you would have already done that after hearing my intentions. But you won't do that. Because Harry Potter is the good guy. Even when you know what i think of you, you will not break the betrothal because that would leave me in the middle of nowhere, lost and devastated because of you." She laughed again.

"Daphne, what has happened-"

Her fingers came close to the ribbons on her robe. "Are you sure you do not want to use me for some pleasure, Lord Potter-Black?"

Harry did not reply.

"Good night, Harry Potter." She drew close to him. "Enjoy your purgatory." She stepped back, transfigured her robes and walked out of the room.


	33. Chapter 33 : Complications Part-2

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Harry stood completely shocked at the changes in his would-be-wife. His weeks of training sunk in as he approached the incredibly emotional situation with cold logic. "And what if I cancel the betrothal right now?"_

 _Daphne laughed coldly. "Empty threat, Potter. You are smart, and you are cunning. I know that if you wanted, you could have just done that already. You wouldn't have wiped the floor with Draco and threatened everyone to be respectable to me." She laughed again. "If you really had the mentality to do that, you would have already done that after hearing my intentions. But you won't do that. Because Harry Potter is the good guy. Even when you know what I think of you, you will not break the betrothal because that would leave me in the middle of nowhere, lost and devastated because of you." She laughed again._

 _"Daphne, what has happened-"_

 _Her fingers came close to the ribbons on her robe. "Are you sure you do not want to use me for some pleasure, Lord Potter-Black?"_

 _Harry did not reply._

 _"Good night, Harry Potter." She drew close to him. "Enjoy your purgatory." She stepped back, transfigured her robes and walked out of the room._

* * *

Harry tapped the runes of the pensieve as the memory was recollected into its original memory strand form, which he collected into a vial, and handed it over. Dumbledore took it and placed it on the shelf with the other vials, but not before marking it with certain cryptic numbers that only he himself would recognize.

"Well…?" Harry demanded.

Albus sighed. "Well, I must confess that _I_ certainly did not see that coming. I understand that Miss Greengrass is undergoing a rough time, and Slytherin House hasn't been an ideal place for her during this interval, especially with you being absent and blocked from all kinds of communication, but I certainly did _not_ expect _this_ level of vitriol in her."

"She wasn't like this before, so I have to say that her reaction and behavior astounds me." Sirius confessed. The trio were in Dumbledore's office, with the pensieve sitting on the Headmaster's desk.

Harry's temples furrowed. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You- I," Sirius paused, "look Harry, I know that despite this level of hatred in her, you think that this is her anger and her bottled resentment towards you showing itself, but trust me, this is _not normal_."

"She is fifteen." Harry retorted. "Teenagers aren't supposed to make sense in everything they do. At least I don't."

"You don't understand, Harry." Sirius braced himself. "Miss Greengrass-Daphne- she was sulking, and resenting your absence, check. She was devastated, bitter and all alone, check. She was in Slytherin House with the likes of Malfoy all this time, still check. But this, this _does not_ make sense."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Explain."

Sirius and Dumbledore looked at each other momentarily before Sirius continued, "When Cyrus was… killed, Daphne's mother went into an emotional shock and thus her maternal family took her away to Sweden, and well, Daphne and Astoria were in Hogwarts, and me being present, their evacuation was unnecessary, even for security reasons." He paused, "I understand that she was resentful and hurt and everything, but remember what I told you previously? _She willfully agreed that your training was supremely important and that it was not necessary for you to leave it midway_. While she was resenting your absence even then, she had the good head to understand why you were away."

"Then?"

"Christmas holidays, and I took Daphne and Astoria to Black Manor to stay for the holidays, because it was the most secure place they could be. I had Nymphadora stay in with them and also invited Miss Vance, so that they would not remain without any adult supervision." Sirius explained. "And I also hired an elf for-"

"Why would you need an elf? What happened to-"

Sirius looked disgusted with himself. "Harry, Kreacher is dead."

* * *

"Daphne?"

Said girl turned towards her visitor and slowly returned, "Yes?"

"Are you okay?" Tracey asked.

"Of course." She said simply.

"I mean- like _seriously_ okay?"

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "What could _possibly_ be wrong with me?"

"Oh I don't know. Maybe because your behavior has changed _drastically_ ever since you returned from the Black Manor? Or because I find it extremely _odd_ that you, who used to cry _every_ night for _that boy_ to come back, is now behaving as if _he_ is the bane of your existence."

Daphne's lips curled. "Whatever do you mean?"

Tracey looked indignant. "I mean—I mean something is wrong with you. Given the way in which Malfoy keeps smirking, I think he has _potioned_ you or something. I think you should go and have a check performed by Madam Pomfrey."

"I'm fine, Tracey. Let it go."

"No you are NOT. You barely even talk with me anymore. Your sister is just as hurt as you are, and despite being her elder, you barely acknowledge her anymore, almost as if she and I are no more important in your life."

Daphne sneered. "My father just died, Tracey Davis. I am now the Lady Greengrass and I am working to bring my father's resources and his entire portfolio under control. That requires a lot of time and effort, something a _half-blood_ like you is incapable of understanding."

Tracey blanched at her, shocked at her vitriol.

"You might seem to think that since we have grown up together, you are entitled to many things. However, this is the family issue of the Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass. Keep your opinions out, since they are neither asked for nor appreciated."

"Very well," Tracey replied, trying very hard to restrain the single tear that was threatening to fall from her left eye. "I will leave you alone, Lady Greengrass. I am sorry for obstructing and wasting your time."

"I hope you do," came the shallow reply.

Tracey ran out of the room.

* * *

"Kreacher… is… _dead?"_

Harry could not believe it. While the little elf was not the epitome of likeability, he had been quite helpful and devoted to Harry, despite being a little demented. Then again, staying in that dilapidated house for a decade with nothing but a mad woman's portrait would do that to anyone.

"How?"

"Mundungus." Sirius sighed. "You remember Mundungus Fletcher?"

"Yes," Harry replied, gritting his teeth.

Sirius looked at Dumbledore for some support and continued, "Well Dung was apparently trying to steal some goblin-silver from the house during the Order meetings. Kreacher caught him, and attacked him. We believe that Dung panicked and cursed him with something that took his life."

Harry looked furious.

"And?"

"Harry, we needed Dung for the Order, as he is an important source of information. We have kept him, but he is not allowed to enter the Black Manor anymore." Dumbledore replied slowly, wincing at the anger that flashed on Harry's face.

"That… that bastard killed Kreacher, and _you just let him go?"_ Harry asked slowly, trying his best to reign over the anger that seemed to wash over him. The fact that Ignotus was having a high time, whispering mad words into his mind and trying to convince him to devastate and kill did not help matters.

"Harry-" Sirius tried.

"Why isn't Dung in Azkaban by now?"

No one dared to reply.

"Why isn't Dung in Azkaban BY NOW?"

"Because there were no grounds of conviction." Dumbledore replied emotionlessly. "Of course, he had tried to steal from the Black manor, but because he was _invited in_ , and had _not_ , ultimately, been able to steal anything, there are no grounds for conviction."

"HE KILLED KREACHER!"

"Who was an _elf_." Dumbledore replied warily.

"Of course," Harry replied slowly, "Kreacher was an _elf._ Not a wizard. Not a witch. Isn't that right, Dumbledore?" he hissed in fury.

"Harry-" Sirius tried.

"WHAT?" Harry snapped.

"It was necessary." Sirius replied. "I know and understand how you feel. Yes, Kreacher might have always been an insensitive bastard to me, but I know how much the elf was devoted to you, but trust me, this was a decision we reached after a lot of consideration. Legally, Dung cannot be convicted. However, if I now go and kill him, nothing will be gained except _petty vengeance_ and we will lose our most important ear in Knockturn Alley." He paused, carefully making sure of his godson's reaction, "I have lost too much to petty vengeance, Harry. I lost twelve years of my life with you, and I am not making the same mistake again. If you think I am to blame, go ahead and blame me. I am your culprit." He looked at his godson.

Harry sighed. He did not have to like it but he agreed. Not that he was not simmering on the inside at the level of hypocrisy prevalent in the Ministerial jurisdiction. The Warmage in him wanted to go out there and burn it to ashes, but he restrained the urge. The world did not need another Voldemort.

"So you got yourself a new elf?"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded slowly, a smile returning to his lips, "a free elf who was available and who almost prostrated when he heard that Harry Potter's godfather needed an elf."

"Huh?" Harry asked, before it shot him. "You mean, Dobby?"

Instantly, there was a pop and there he was- a hyper excited elf hugging his legs madly as he squeaked, "Harry Potter sir, calls for Dobby?"

 _I will have to make him stop doing that._

"Hello Dobby, how are you?"

"Dobby is fine, Harry Potter sir. When Dobby found out that Harry Potter's dog father," - Sirius snorted here- "required an elf for looking after Harry Potter's missus, Dobby was ready and Dobby agreed to do it."

"Are you getting paid, Dobby?"

The elf nodded religiously. "Master Blackie gives Dobby two galleons and one day off in a month. Master Blackie was being _bad_ by giving Dobby ten galleons and four days off, but Dobby bet him to it. Dobby likes being paid, but Dobby likes work better."

"Err… right."

"Very well, Dobby. You may go." Sirius replied. The elf turned towards him and replied. "The weeds have grown again, Master Blackie. Dobby tries to stop them but the weeds grow back." Dobby bowed and popped away.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What is this _weeds_ thing?"

Sirius turned towards Harry. "Oh nothing big. You remember how the house was covered with those vines, weeds and doxies all over?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, ever since you took control over the wards, and the House restructured itself, those… weeds were gone for good. But after you left for Hogwarts, some weeds started to regrow on the southern side of the building. Initially I didn't notice but then it grew enough to catch my eye. I tried to burn it off, and ordered Dobby to do it, but apparently, it just grows back."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "And is that _normal?"_

"Well," Sirius shrugged, "The house sits on some very powerful ley lines. I suppose that being dilapidated for over a decade must have had some kind of adverse reactions on the property, but I will look into it. You don't need to worry about it."

"But... how could this-"

"You hold the wards, Harry, and while you were present, the wards leached a little of your power to eradicate any kind of pests or problems. But since you haven't been there in months, I suppose that the wards haven't been powerful enough to stop the weeds from growing back."

"Are you sure?" Harry offered.

"Yes. I got it covered. I might not be the Lord and Master but I have the blood and the magic. The wards will recognize my authority to some extent." Sirius replied offhandedly.

"Very well."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "That is all nice and all, but let us not digress. The situation regarding Miss Greengrass remains unsolved."

"I am _not_ breaking the contract without trying." Harry replied adamantly, crossing his arms.

Dumbledore raised his hands. "I am not saying you do, Harry, but think about it. You are supposed to leave for the Guild now, or is your concern for Miss Greengrass making you to reconsider that decision?"

Harry considered it.

"Harry," Sirius exclaimed, "I know that you are a good person and I know that you are holding yourself guilty in this, but understand this, you cannot skip out your Guild training just because Daphne is _behaving_ like this."

"I never said that I ever considered that. I might be a teenager but I understand that certain situations will always be out of my control, this being one. I am asking what we are going to do about her."

"Well," Dumbledore began with a smile, content that Harry was truly making choices like a matured person even under emotional duress, "we can agree that Miss Greengrass cannot be forced to do anything and you cannot leave your training. I say that you go ahead and continue with the Guild. We are here if something happens. Besides, I believe a little time alone will give Miss Greengrass the time to recuperate. I have seen that with time, people tend to reanalyze their own behavior and understand their own mistakes."

"Harry, I understand that you feel responsible for Miss—Daphne," Sirius began, "but given how she is acting, either something is wrong with her," - he raised his hand to prevent Harry from interrupting-"-which I am going to look into, I promise you that. However, that said, if it is just pure vindictiveness on her part that is making her do that, then trust me Harry, _you should break the betrothal_. After all, they came with the idea to betroth you too. They made the approach, and they strategized everything. _You do not always have to be the one to save the day."_

Harry sighed. "Very well. Look into it, and keep me notified." He turned to Dumbledore, "Professor, I hope you will keep me notified of the happenings when you meet me on every weekend?"

"Absolutely." Dumbledore promised.

Harry let out a deep sigh. "Any other earth-shattering news that you might have forgotten to share with me?"

Sirius laughed. "No, the rest of it is pretty good. Dumbledore here, finally had the good idea to cut out the entire _guard-the-prophecy_ idea. He says that only you, and you alone could pick it up, and hence no matter what Voldemort may try to do, he will be unsuccessful. That said, I also need to warn you, I am afraid Voldemort might try to compel you to go to the Department of Mysteries and pluck the Prophecy, but _under no conditions must you do that."_

"What is so important about this Prophecy? I don't believe in it, whatever it might say."

"Harry," Dumbledore replied slowly, "-the thing about prophecies are- _they want to come true._ This prophecy, it deals with you and Voldemort, and if perchance Voldemort gets his hand on it, the event might set forward certain reactions out of our control. It contains future knowledge, Harry. Understand this as it is very important, _he who knows your future, knows your destiny, and thus controls it."_

"I don't believe it, Professor. I believe people make their own destiny and Prophecy or not, that bastard is not going to take anything else away from me. I had decided that I would stay neutral in the fight but apparently, Voldemort does not agree with me on the issue. If push comes to shove, I _will_ make sure that my parents' deaths get avenged."

"That's all I ask of you, Harry. Would you be willing to stay for a while or would you-"?

"If it's all the same, professor, I think I should like to be back at the Guild. No offense, Sirius, but I have had rather too many shocks impacted upon my mind. I guess a good measure of normality would be better."

Sirius guffawed. "Only you, Harry, could compare staying at a Master's Guild as being _normal_."

"Ah, the perks of being me." Harry muttered sarcastically.

* * *

 **Sometime later…**

"So, Thor?" Dumbledore replied, "are you ready to dissolve yourself into another… three long months of training?"

"I think that would be four, Professor, since I am quite confident that excluding things like Herbology and Astronomy, I am quite ready for my owls."

"Ah, I always knew that you were resourceful beyond your years. In any event, you can always ask for some private tutoring. I am sure Professor Sinistra and Sprout won't have any problems tutoring you in the subject."

"While we are at it, Professor, I know it's late but could I change my subjects for the OWLS?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"I would like to sit in Runes OWL instead of Divination. I am sure that Master Vanko's tutoring is way beyond what might come in NEWTS. Besides, I checked the exam syllabus—they only give us to identify runes from two languages and write about their possible uses."

"I am sure it could be accommodated."

"And I would like to shift trying for my Herbology and Astronomy OWL for the next year. That would give me more time to simply finish my training, and I am sure, you will agree that the faster I finish this, the better."

"My boy, I admit that you are resourceful, but one doesn't just pass his Mastery in months. It requires a solid understanding and tremendous amount of practice to-"

"Weren't you just saying that I am resourceful beyond my years?"

Dumbledore smiled but did not answer.

Making sure he wasn't forgetting anything, he looked towards the icy fortress in front of him. "I suppose this is goodbye. I will see you on the weekend."

"Study hard, Thor."

"I will, professor."


	34. Chapter 34 : A solution

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _"My boy, I admit that you are resourceful, but one doesn't just pass his Mastery in months. It requires a solid understanding and tremendous amount of practice to-"_

 _"Weren't you just saying that I am resourceful beyond my years?"_

 _Dumbledore smiled but did not answer._

 _Making sure he wasn't forgetting anything, he looked towards the icy fortress in front of him. "I suppose this is goodbye. I will see you on the weekend."_

 _"Study hard, Thor."_

 _"I will, professor."_

* * *

An excerpt from the Daily Prophet dated 17th January, 1996.

 **NEUTRALS DIVIDE: WILL SELWYN BE THE NEW LEADER OF THE DARK-NEUTRALS?**

 **REMAINING NEUTRALS FORM AN ALLIANCE WITH SIRIUS BLACK AS LEADER!**

 **DAPHNE GREENGRASS SWORN AS THE NEW LADY GREENGRASS! QUESTIONS ARISE OVER THE POTTER-BLACK-GREENGRASS ALLIANCE!**

 **PERCIVAL WEASLEY JOINS IN AS THE NEW SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY OF THE MINISTER!**

Another excerpt from the Daily Prophet dated 19th February,1996.

 **AZKABAN BREAKOUT! LESTRANGE! AVERY! ROOKWOOD! MULCIBER! FLINT! NOTT! INCARCERATED DEATH EATERS BROKEN OUT OF PRISON BY ANONYMOUS FORCES!**

 **RUFUS SCRIMGEOUR FOUND DEAD UNDER MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES! AMELIA BONES ASKS ALASTOR MOODY TO STEP IN AS THE NEW HEAD-AUROR!**

 **AMELIA BONES: NOT A FAN OF FUDGE?**

* * *

The village of Little Hangleton had once been one of the most densely populated muggle places in the area. Strangely though, the population had been on a drastic decline along the past two years, especially since strange lights and sounds were heard from the old, dilapidated Riddle Manor. As of now, the entire village of Little Hangleton seemed to be devoid of any mundane life, though something prevented the realtors from taking over and renovating the entire area. The land gave off a kind of… cursed feeling, and the people felt so uncomfortable, that they just left the job and moved on to some other place.

Deep inside the powerfully-warded Riddle Manor, the dark lord sat on his throne- a specimen of antiquity that was created out of swords and daggers, and gave off a foreboding feeling. The entire manor had been renovated with wards interwoven inside its very fabric. In front of the throne, were two long tables arranged back to back, forming a long row with seats on either end. This was the war council of the Dark Lord and an active session was presently going on.

On the Lord's right side sat Bellatrix Lestrange. Just beside her sat the other Lestranges followed by Caractacus Flint and Thomas Avery. On the left side, sat Lucius Malfoy, and then Augustus Rookwood, Severus Snape, Peter Pettigrew and Fenrir Greyback.

"Is everything in order?"

Everyone quietened on hearing the dark lord speak. Lord Voldemort tilted his head slowly as he faced the pale face of Lucius Malfoy. "Tell me Lucius, how is the plan at the DOM progressing?"

Lucius swallowed. "My lord, we made many attempts to pick the orb, using magical and mundane, human and creature alike. All of the efforts have been in vain. Anyone who touches the orb gets electrocuted instantly."

"Then put a bloody ward against it." Rudolphus Lestrange grunted.

"Do you think that it did not cross my mind, Lestrange?" Lucius snapped. Turning to the dark lord, he continued, "My Lord, the room of Prophecy is warded against such defenses. Whenever someone touches a prophecy orb, it generates some kind of… blocker that completely negates any magical activity within three metres of it. The orb is unmovable- we tried everything- both magical and mundane."

"I am disappointed, Lucius. Very disappointed. I had hopes that you might be able to do this one little thing I asked of you. Nevertheless, now that Rookwood is back amongst us, maybe he will be able to figure something out., won't you Augustus?"

Augustus Rookwood stayed silent.

"Something wrong, Augustus?" The dark lord curled his lips.

"My - my lord, I am afraid I won't be able to aid Malfoy in this… expedition."

Everyone held their breath, to defy the dark lord's order was to invite death. Plain and simple. You go in. You die. End of story.

"And why?"

Augustus swallowed. "The Unspeakables, my Lord. They employ blood magic in the wards surrounding the Department. Since I was proven to be a death eater, I broke my oaths as an Unspeakable and by their laws, I am a traitor to the Department. Unless the wards are magically disabled, putting my first step will curse me with the withering curse. My lord knows that it is incurable, and death follows in hours."

"I… see."

Silence.

The dark lord seemed to be lost in contemplation. Everyone looked at each other, but nobody said anything.

"Avery?"

"My Lord?"

"How goes our recruitment from the vampire community?"

"Around two thousand vampires will join us in by the end of the month, my Lord."

"Why the delay?"

"The ICW. They track vampire migrations, my lord. Any movement of vampires more than two hundred at any single time attracts their attention. Given the situation, they must be paying even more attention."

"Ah… yes, we do not want to attract the attention of the ICW. Not until it is time to activate Phase 3."

Bellatrix smirked devilishly. Phase 3 was something the dark lord had conscripted to her.

"What about the werewolf contingent?"

"Three hundred werewolves are on our side, my lord."

"Only three hundred? I thought there were around five hundred. What happened to the rest?"

Avery looked at Greyback, who stood up. "Remus Lupin, my lord."

"Ah, Dumbledore's lone wolf." The dark lord mused. "So he is recruiting them to fight for the Light?"

Lucius snorted. "Fat chance. Fudge won't allow it. I am sure I can convince him to increase the severity of werewolf laws."

"Actually, there are staying neutral. Remus Lupin is trying to convince them to stay out of the fight." Avery returned.

"fools." The dark lord chortled. "They will join us when they see us winning."

Greyback grunted in agreement.

"Severus, what news do you bring?"

Severus Snape slowly turned towards the dark lord. "My Lord?"

"What news do you bring?"

Severus considered his words. "The Headmaster is often in the presence of Sirius Black, my Lord. Ever since Black," he sneered the name with disdain, "-has taken over as the Defense Professor, the two seem to become chubby friends. I am afraid I'm not as important to the old man's plans as I once was."

"Hmmmm…." The dark lord mused, "in fact, Severus, I agree with you. You are _not_ as important to the plans regarding Dumbledore as you once were." Severus swallowed, his fingers twitching as he reached for his wand, ready to deflect a spell at a moment's notice. There was no chance of apparation or portkeying out of this warded labyrinth. However, perhaps he would be able to…

"I am afraid you have lost your credibility as a spy in Dumbledore's domain."

Severus's fingers edged closer to his wand.

"But-"

Pause.

"I hope you will be of use to me as a Potion's Master."

Severus nearly lost his control and revealed the shock on his face. "My… lord?"

"I want you to create a potion. It is classified. Nobody shall know about it, except you and I, is that clear?"

"yes… my lord." He paused, "but… forgive my impudence, my lord, but if I am gone from Hogwarts, who will be your spy?"

The dark lord laughed. "Whoever told you that you were my only spy there, Severus? I have implanted my own spy in the castle."

"You… have?"

The dark lord laughed. "Surely Severus, you did not think me as a person who will put all his hopes on one of my followers? Especially one who latches on Albus Dumbledore's arm all day?"

"Which I do on your orders, my Lord." Severus returned, making sure that his tone was subservient.

"And you did so excellently. However, there are far more important things at hand. Things that require the precision and perfection of a Potions Master. Someone like you, Severus."

Severus bowed. "Of course, my Lord."

"Good." The dark lord turned towards Nott. "Tell me Nott, how goes Phase 2?"

"Phase 2 is up and running, my lord. We undertook the first series of tests and they have all been successful."

"Good. Keep it going. I will call on you for details, later."

"As you wish, my Lord."

"Now all that remains is… Phase 1, which Malfoy has been unable to complete. I believe your old age is making you incompetent, Lucius." Lucius ignored the jibe. "I take it, that we need Harry Potter to finish the task that you couldn't, Lucius."

"The boy… my lord, is not here. He is supposedly training at the Transfiguration Guild."

"Yes," the dark lord frowned. "The Guild. The boy has proven himself to be exceptionally resourceful. He thwarted my plans and escaped death miraculously, despite each of you being present at the graveyard, and as shameful as it is, I am still at sea, trying to figure out what actually happened that very night. Augustus-"

"My Lord?"

"A word with you in private."

"Indeed."

The dark lord continued. "The Guild is unplottable, and we do not want to attract its attention. Despite my powers and my large contingent of soldiers, I would be hard-pressed if the Guilds drew battle lines. We need to keep them from toeing the battle-lines until Phase 3 is complete."

Bellatrix cackled mirthfully.

"We need to draw Potter out. And I believe I know just the thing that will do it." He turned to Lucius who bowed. "Lucius, I have a new task for you. Remember, if you fail this time, I will kill you myself."

"My lord…" Lucius returned in a frightened voice.

"Look into my eyes, Lucius."

Lucius stared into the endless dark void that was the dark lord's eyes for a moment.

"Did you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good." The dark lord paused. "I want you to assassinate Sirius Black."

* * *

 **Meanwhile at Hogwarts…**

"Tracey, we have to do something. Daphne, she is beyond-", Astoria gushed, as she cried into Tracey's arms. The elder girl lifted Astoria's head and held her softly. "Don't worry, I will think of something."

"Something has happened to her. I cannot prove it but I know it is. I read a letter she had written from her room. She has been exchanging letters with the Selwyns and engineered the breakdown of dad's alliance. Mister Black was so frustrated about it all."

Tracey looked worried. Astoria went on… "You have seen how she has become, she is even spending her time reading up on all those _evil_ books that Dad has sequestered away from the family library, saying that they were dark and evil and that we should not even touch them. And here she-", Astoria sobbed, "—and that locket that she clings to and speaks to all the time just like she used to chat with me back then-"

"Wait. What locket?"

"There is a beautiful locket that she always keeps to herself. She never puts it away even while sleeping. I think she has it since the winter vacations when we went to Mister Black's house."

Tracey narrowed her eyes. "She has been wearing it since the winter holidays?"

"Yes. I saw her wearing it at the Black Manor. I thought that she had bought it from somewhere back then. It is an ornate green locket with a…. I think it was a… yes, it was a snake on it. Positive."

"Astoria." Tracey replied slowly. "I need you to help me in something. We are going to get your sister back."

* * *

 **The next day…**

"Daphne!"

Daphne Greengrass did not even turn around. She recognized the voice all too well. The fact that the other girl had just barged into her room without permission did not help matters.

"What can I do for you, Davis?"

"Potter is back."

"Really?" Her lips curled. "So does my Lord want some sexual pleasure from his mistress?" She slowly took the comb and began brushing her long, lustrous hair.

Tracey hesitated. "He told," she paused, "-he told me that you are ordered to meet him at your usual place."

"did he? Very well. You may go."

Tracey did not move.

"I believe you are done with whatever you came for. You can leave." She replied, an undercurrent of anger lining her calm voice.

"He told me to accompany you to him."

Her hands stopped. "Did he?"

"Yes." Tracey hesitated.

"why do I smell… hesitation in you, Davis?"

"You look… changed, Daphne."

"Do I?" She turned around. The bright angelic face was no more there. Of course, she was still beautiful, but there was a kind of darkness marring her beauty. Her hair, which initially flowed down like the rive down her back, was now a little bushy and all over the place, and her eyes now had something feral in them.

"Yes." Tracey swallowed.

Daphne smiled. A cruel smile. "Let's go and see what my Lord Potter-Black wants from his would-be-wife this time. He was an imbecile the previous time, you know?" She chuckled. "I was even ready to disrobe but the silly Gryffindor refused. Chivalry and nobility, I garner." She laughed.

"Yeah." Tracey smiled with hesitation.

"Come along, Davis." She just crossed the other girl as she was about to leave the room when Tracey moved suddenly, pushing her to the wall as Daphne banged her head on the wall, bruising her head as red drops of precious blood begun to fall down on the floor. Tracey pushed her aside as she darted out of the room.

"DAVIS!" Daphne yelled, "I WILL KILLL YOU FOR THIS…."

She stepped out of her room, her wand spinning into her fingers as she leveled it towards the other girl who was about to sprint downstairs. She fired a dark curse which hit the other girl's leg and she fell on the ground with a whelp, crying out in agony. Daphne laughed as she slowly walked up to the fallen girl, her wand twirling in her hand as she stalked towards her.

"Please... please… I am sorry." Tracey wept, the blood from her leg oozing out onto the floor.

"You should have thought of that before attacking me, Davis. However, it is time to correct the mistake I made by befriending a half-blood." She slowly levelled her wand towards the other girl and smirked. "Avada-"

"STUPEFY!"

A flash of crimson inundated her world and Daphne Greengrass knew no more.

Behind her, wand still smoking, stood Tracey Davis, who sent her wand back into her robes. "Good work, Astoria." She helped the other girl up, who was still bleeding from the leg. "We need to get that treated."

"It will be okay. I just need to visit Madam Pomfrey. Help me up."

"I have something better." Tracey took out a small pouch from within her robes. "Put this on."

It was some kind of ointment in there. Astoria hesitated for a moment.

"Go on, put it on."

Without further delay, she applied some of the ointment over her wound. To her surprise, the injury healed at an incredible rate.

"What is THIS thing?" Astoria replied with awe.

"It's made for countering dark curses. Works good on injuries caused by dark severing hexes."

"How did you get this?"

"Harry gave it to me."

"Harry?"

"Later, now hold on." Tracey helped the other girl up, and transfigured a cane for her to hold on. She looked at the fallen girl who was once her best friend, and without any hesitation, tore open her robes, finding the serpentine, silver locket underneath.

"This is it. This is it!" Astoria gushed.

"Shhh, Tori. This can be cursed. Do you know the message spell that Daphne used to use while sending messages to her… umm… your father?"

Astoria nodded.

"Call Headmaster Dumbledore here. RIGHT NOW!"

* * *

 **Thirty minutes later…**

"Miss Davis, Miss Greengrass, I cannot impress upon you both how proud I am of the way both of you handled the matter with excellence. Fifty points each to Slytherin."

Astoria blushed, while Tracey just looked down. "Professor, what is that thing?"

Dumbledore looked at them. "Something made up of the vilest of magics. Do you know where or how Miss Greengrass, I mean, Daphne got it?"

Astoria shared a look with Tracey. "Black Manor."

"WHAT?"

The two girls spun around to see an astonished Sirius Black standing at the doorway.

"Sirius, please come in." Dumbledore replied.

"They found that… in my house? That thing… which has been influencing Miss- Daphne?"

Tracey nodded.

"Damn!" he looked up at the Headmaster. "What is that, professor?"

Dumbledore glanced at the girls. "Miss Davis, Miss Greengrass, I think you can return to your dorms. Your sister will take some time to recuperate."

The girls nodded. Tracey looked up, and then hesitated for a moment.

"Miss Davis?"

"I was wondering if you knew when Harry would return back?"

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "By my estimations, it will be quite some time before Mister Potter can return back for a break."

"Can you say to him that I said thanks?" She asked. "He will understand."

Dumbledore stared at her for a moment. 'Of course."

"Thank you, professor." The two girls left as the door closed. Sirius walked over and sat on the chair in front of the desk. "What is that thing?"

Dumbledore considered it. In another world, he would never have trusted this with anyone else. However, he had promised to be open and sharing in his resources.

"Tell me Sirius, have you ever come across the word _Horcrux?"_

"Let me get this straight. There was a _horcrux_ in my own house, right under my own nose and I did not know anything about it?"

"It certainly seems so."

"And that thing has been influencing Daphne all this time?"

"I believe, yes."

"Unbelievable."

"How do you know about horcruxes?"

" _Black heir_ over here, remember? My grandfather taught me all about them."

"Did he teach you anything about destroying them?"

"Yes. Fiendfyre."

Albus raised his eyebrows. "That is a good proposition."

"Are you going to destroy it _now?_ " Sirius asked, pointing at the locket that was laid on the shelf.

"I believe we should. There is no reason not to do so."

"Very well then." Sirius replied. "I want to do it."

Albus looked at him. "Can you control Fiendfyre, my boy?"

"Almost. Enough to destroy it to pieces."

Albus nodded. "I believe we should take this outside, so that the remnants do not have any kind of effect on the castle."

"The grounds?"

"The grounds."

* * *

There was a burst of flame as Fawkes transported Dumbledore and Sirius to the grounds. Dumbledore transfigured a huge stone basin with a tiny opening on top. "Drop the horcrux in." He commanded, and Sirius did so. The Headmaster waved his wand and set up powerful locking charms all around the basin.

"This will prevent the Fiendfyre from getting out of control." He explained.

"Good thinking."

Albus smiled. Sirius raised his wand and poked the interior of the basin with it. Steading himself, he summoned his magic.

"FIENDFYRE!"

The cursed fire rushed out of his wand, engulfing the object within as the horcrux let out a heart-wrenching screech. The basin began to shake powerfully as Dumbledore shoved his power through the locking ward, holding it intact, not letting the fire to burst out of it. On the other hand, Sirius pulled over all his energies and forced the Fiendfyre into the stone basin, said stone now slowly melting under the wrath of the cursed flames.

Suddenly there was a powerful explosion, as dense black fog exploded out of the stone basin, emanating into the air. After the fog cleared out and dissipated, two weary but nonetheless happy individuals stood on the grounds, staring at the remnants of the stone basin that once housed the very thing that had caused so much problems in their lives.


	35. Chapter 35 : Horcruxes

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Suddenly there was a powerful explosion, as dense black fog exploded out of the stone basin, emanating into the air. After the fog cleared out and dissipated, two weary but nonetheless happy individuals stood on the grounds, staring at the remnants of the stone basin that once housed the very thing that had caused so much problems in their lives._

* * *

Her father… dead… killed… _butchered_ … hung in Diagon Alley… _traitor_ …

 _ **Daphne, the dark lord is back, and no matter what the Ministry stooges might say, he is back and definitely on his way for another rise. The last time I had sufficed by making some donations to his camp, but I am afraid this time, he won't allow anyone to remain neutral….**_

Daphne screamed…

 _ **You will always be my baby girl, even if you are fifteen…I know I won't be able to see you on your birthday, but you know how much I love you….**_

The pieces of her father's torso falling on the ground, the dust mixing with the blood…

 _ **Daphne….**_

She screamed again…

 _ **I want you to feel up Harry Potter.**_

She edged forwards, her mind lost in the middle of eternity, the only voices being those of her father, fading away into the sands of an eternal desert…

 _ **Dad…**_

She could see him fading away into dust, into blood, blood that trickled down from a headless torso hung from a roost…

 _ **I want you to betroth yourself to him.**_

Daphne screamed.

* * *

"We are losing her!" One of the healers yelled, "Get some revitalizing elixir now. Quick."

"What is happening?" Sirius asked, but the glare of one of the healers shot him down. Another healer, a woman by the voice, replied with a stern tone, "I have no idea what she had come into contact with, but her mind is breaking to pieces. If this situation continues for some more time, her mind will be _permanently_ broken."

"Permanently broken?" Albus repeatedly morosely.

"Permanently. Whatever it had been, it had branched itself into her mind in such a refined manner, that now that is gone, her mind has lost the ability to reconstruct itself. It is falling to pieces. HEALER ALLEN! THE BRAGNOLL DRAUGHT, NOW!"

"I have never seen such a case in my life." One of the healers explained.

"What was it that attacked her?" asked another.

Sirius felt his knees go weak as he struggled to keep up. Removing the horcrux had done nothing to aid her, she had to be stunned again when she had woken up. The moment they had destroyed it, Daphne had fallen unconscious, and looked like she was suffering from magical exhaustion, which was at par with the reaction that Ginny Weasley had demonstrated three years ago.

The problems had begun an hour later. Suddenly, Daphne's eyes had snapped wide open, and a dark pallor of hysteria engulfed them as she began to scream madly. It was heart-wrenching; the way the girl was fighting to throw away some kind of imaginary ropes all around her as she had her eyes open as she screamed her lungs out. Instantly, mind-healers from Saint Mungo's had been called in, and her treatment begun.

"GET THE ICW HEALING UNIT ON THE LINE! EMERGENCY CODE 3-ALPHA-5-O-7! NOW!"

The sudden shout brought Sirius back from his disturbed memories. He somehow held himself together. He had to be strong, for Daphne, for Harry. His godson would be devastated if something happened to the girl. It had been all his fault. He had taken it for granted and believed that a wait-and-see approach would work as Daphne was simply going through a rough time. They had even cast charms to test if she had been under the Imperius or any potion on an occasion (making sure to obliviate her of the memory later) and finding none, they had simply thought that it was her own resentment that had caused the vindictiveness. Never in his nightmares, had he imagined that there could be something so evil, so foul as a horcrux that could have influenced Daphne's mind.

 _Harry would be so devastated…_

"Mr. Black?"

 _How will I face him?_

"MR. BLACK?"

"Yes-Yes?" Sirius mumbled, shaking out of his anxiety.

The healer stared at him for a minute. "We have managed to put her in mental statis. This condition will last for _forty-eight hours_ after which her mind will begin to disintegrate without any chance of repair. My entire sixty-five years of experience says that this case is incurable, there is no log, no documentation, nothing in our books and logs that we can reference or try. If you know any private healer whom you trust to try heal her, we can discharge her. Else, we need you to sign a form to transfer her to the permanent damage ward at Saint Mungo's. I'm sorry."

Sirius looked crestfallen. "A private healer?"

"yes." The healer replied. "Is there anyone you would trust to try another chance?"

Sirius's mind went back to the goblin he had met with Harry the previous time. Though, given the rule amongst goblins, they only saw people who were their clients. An external person had to enter with someone who was already a client. But that meant-

"Please prepare her for transport. I am getting the healer on the line." He turned to Dumbledore. "Dumbledore, I need to see Harry. Now."

* * *

 **Meanwhile at the Guild…**

"And that is the way one performs a perfect _Legilimency loop_." Derek Prince replied. "Great work, Thor, as always. Don't forget to take the course load I have set for you. I want you to finish up working on the runic defense strategy you have developed with Anton and imbue it with power using Morrison Blade Principle. Then, I will show you how to magically transform your staff into a weapon of your choice."

Thor nodded.

"Now class, today is the last time we are going to revise on the seven principles of Morgrath, so I want your attention because the first one who fails to answer will have to face me in the battle ring for seventeen minutes. Not a good prospect, I remind you. Now Morgrath's principle number one indicates Brian-?"

Thor looked up, surprised at finding Albus Dumbledore standing on the doorway. "Prof- Master Dumbledore?"

"I am sorry for the interruption, Derek, but I have an urgent need to take Thor away. It is a situation of _Code 10-zom-7_."

Derek raised his eyebrows. For keeping up thee anonymity as long as apprentices were at the guild, there were certain code words implemented to mean specific statements. _Code 10-zom-7_ meant that it was a life and death situation regarding some family member of the apprentice.

"Right. Thor, you may leave with Master Dumbledore. I will reassign your course load when you return."

Thor nodded with courtesy as he stood and walked out of the classroom. He followed Dumbledore out of the compound until they were standing in the main corridor. Raising a privacy ward, he asked, "What's wrong. Professor?"

Dumbledore considered it. "I have no time to explain in detail but in short, Miss Greengrass was attacked by a foul magic, and it has affected her mind badly. According to Sirius, you hold a connection to some private mind-healer who can-"

But Thor was done listening. Instantly, he raised his hand as his staff came flying out of the classroom, and he willed his robes to change, as they transfigured themselves into formal robes. "Let's go, Professor."

* * *

The master and his apprentice appeared at Hogwarts, inside Dumbledore's office and then Fawkes flashed them directly to the hospital wing. Seeing him appear, Sirius ran towards him, his eyes in tears. "I'm sorry, Harry I could not-"

"Sirius, what has happened to Daphne?"

"She has been wearing Voldemort's horcrux for the past month," came the direct reply. "It has damaged her mind and it is now disintegrating since the moment we destroyed the horcrux." Both of them ignored the fact that Dumbledore raised his eyes in shock about how Harry showed no reaction over the word 'horcrux'.

 _Another horcrux? This fellow is steeped too deeply in the necromantic arts to have made so many of those abominations._

 _Later._

Ignotus did not complain. Harry looked at Sirius sharply. "Is she set up for transport?"

Sirius nodded.

"Give me ten minutes." He replied as he flicked his staff, as the Floo burst into flames as he stepped in.

* * *

 **An anxious five hours later…**

"It was an incredibly smart move on your part, young Lord, to contact me in this case. A horcrux-infected victim, now that is something I haven't dealt with since a long time."

"Will she be all right?" there was a pleading in Harry' voice.

"She will." Nagnok assured. "Though, I should warn you. We can repair the damage, that part is true. But her mind, the invasion has rendered her mind extremely fragile. It will take her a significant amount of time before she is back to her former self again. Though, the memories of the event won't really allow her to become what she was. I am afraid she will be scarred forever."

"What do you mean?"

"There will be moments, in the future," Nagnok explained, "when even a single anxiety attack can cause her to suffer from dementia, and I am sure that she will be able to recount her experiences when under the influence of the horcrux. I assure you that no person will be able to stay completely normal after that."

Harry nodded. "It doesn't matter. I will take care of her."

Sirius and Dumbledore glanced at him momentarily but no one said anything.

"That is quite… honorable of you, Lord Potter. However, you had questions. Go ahead."

Harry paused. "What can you tell us, about this horcrux?"

Nagnok considered it. "A lot. But before that, I would like to hear what you and your esteemed company know about this device."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I believe I should recount them." Everyone nodded. He began. "The horcrux was a locket of Salazar Slytherin, and if I recognized it carefully, it was the same pendant that he was rumored to imbue with all kinds of illusionary powers. It was lost to history after his line faced extinction."

Harry suppressed an urge to comment that there was no actual line to have gone extinct. The last Slytherin heir was a girl who married into the Gaunt family. How Voldemort had gotten hold of the locket was another matter altogether.

Dumbledore continued, "According to our theory, the horcrux was in Black Manor all this while. We have no idea how or why."

"The locket was inside my house?" Harry cried out in disbelief.

"Yes." Sirius confirmed.

"Miss Greengrass had been to the Black Manor two weeks following the… rather brutal death of her father. We suspect that she found the horcrux, and somehow it influenced it, though I am not sure how." Dumbledore stated.

"Wait. That doesn't make sense. Ginny I can understand. She was _eleven_ and it was a _diary_ of all things. She could have been entranced by it and it had played upon her ignorance. But this is a locket. Daphne has solid Occlumency shields. I would have bet that she would have been able to ignore the compulsions of the locket." Harry remarked. For the second time, Dumbledore observed the intricate level of knowledge Harry had about the forbidden subject. Was it possible that the boy knew that he had been a horcrux once?

"Wait." Nagnok stopped them. "I am finding that this is not the first time you gentlemen have faced a horcrux belonging to the dark lord. I would like to know about everything first before offering my own conclusions."

Harry sighed as he relaxed into his chair. This was going to be one long tale.

* * *

"All right, while I would like to say that had I not been bound by secrecy oaths regarding clientele information, the three of you would have been exterminated for having knowledge forbidden by goblin law. That said, I believe I finally have some theory which might help you in understanding the reality of the situation." Nagnok expressed disdainfully.

Every eye gazed at him.

"Let me begin by talking about the properties of the horcrux." Nagnok began, "the horcrux is created under specific circumstances and specific esoteric conditions, as I believe I briefed Lord Potter previously. Skipping that part, I would like to tell you that it is necessary that the vessel required for a horcrux _has to be magical_."

"Magical." Harry repeated, thinking about how Tom Riddle had made an ordinary diary into a horcrux. "What about _enchanted_?"

Nagnok raised his eyebrows. "Let me rephrase my statement. A _perfect_ horcrux has to have a _magical artifact_ _as a vessel, not something that is merely enchanted to be magical_."

"So are there _imperfect_ horcruxes too?"

Nagnok nodded. "Yes, and more frequently found than you would imagine. Gringotts has a special squad that hunts down such abominations privately."

"Interesting." Dumbledore exclaimed.

"An example of an imperfect horcrux would be this diary you mentioned. Crafted out an ordinary enchanted object. The main reason for the creation of a horcrux is to _store a part of one's soul into a container and then seal it for eternity_. That is the sole reason why the container needs to be purely magical in nature."

"And if it is enchanted?" Harry questioned.

"Then it lacks the power to keep the soul shard within. Such a soul shard will try every opportunity to get out of the container and instead, occupy the body of another person. While it might seem like a good thing, it actually isn't. Because while the soul shard does get a new body to live in, _it cannot get out of the body once it acquires it_. In short, it becomes _mortal_."

"Defeating the point in _creating_ the horcrux in the first place." Harry inferenced.

"Precisely." Nagnok agreed.

"Now a magical artifact on the other hand, offers many advantages." Nagnok explained. "For one, it is powerful enough to prevent the soul from jumping into another body and destroys its own immortality, thus preserving it true nature. Second, the soul shard gets to use the properties of the magical artifact for its own. In this case, I believe that the soul shard got the power to cast illusions from the locket's innate magical abilities."

"So… Daphne faced an _illusion_?" Harry repeated. "That changed things. Illusions were not something so simple as compulsion spells, and it took an accomplished Occlumens to see through one. Daphne, while a decent Occlumens, was by no means powerful enough to see through one. Her mental condition after her father's death certainly did not help matters.

"An _incredibly powerful_ illusion, I am afraid. If I am to understand this well, then this horcrux has been present for at least two decades, and has been present inside a magical house that holds the untapped power of two magical ley lines. A decade of imbibing magical power. I am sure that the horcrux was more than powerful than most adult wizards."

 _She stood no chance._

Harry controlled the urge to let out his inner Warmage once again and focused on the subject at hand. "What else can you say?"

"There is a _third_ advantage of using a magical artifact as a horcrux."

 _Of course. We wouldn't want to make thigs too easy. Would we? Let's just go make things that would create immortal psychopaths!_

"And what is that?"

"Unlike an imperfect horcrux which tends to displace the host soul of the body that comes in contact with it, _a perfect horcrux can actually use its magic for its own self-preservation."_

 _What's that now?_

"For instance, this locket horcrux _actively ensnared_ its victim. It recognized a potential prey and ensnared it towards itself. On the contrary, it can effectively use its powers to _camouflage_ itself. I believe you mentioned that the Black Manor was in a dilapidated state for a decade."

"Yes." Sirius confirmed.

"I have on good authority, that magical houses in fact, can _never_ get dilapidated. In fact, they would be burnt down to the ground and turned into dust faster than they would allow pests to contaminate it. The accumulation of pests and other dangerous elements was a way in which the horcrux used the power of the ley lines to create a good enough cover for people to stay away from its residence."

Everyone looked at him blankly.

"A perfect horcrux does not allow the soul shard within to escape. However, just as with the ley lines, it does allow it to influence an ensnared victim and then slowly spread itself into the victim's mind and soul, and ultimately, _consume the victim's soul, growing stronger in the process_. I believe that Miss Greengrass was in contact with this… abomination for nearly a month. I would say that it is by luck that she had yet retained so much of a mind to disintegrate, forget trying to make her return to normality."

Harry looked at Nagnok, his jaw-dropped in shock.

Nagnok smiled, baring his fangs. "You did not think that it was just because of no proper reason, why even _SECRETS OF THE DARKEST ART_ declares a horcrux as _**'of the horcrux, we neither speak nor give any aid.'"**_

* * *

 **Dumbledore's office…**

"Harry, please try to see sense, offensive attack is not-"

"On the other hand, it is the only thing." Harry deadpanned. "I am done losing my loved ones to Voldemort. Do you have _any_ idea how many horcruxes he could have created?"

Dumbledore considered it. On the one hand, he knew that his old friend Horace Slughorn was close to Tom Riddle while in school, and initially, his plans had been to show Harry the memory collections he had obtained. However, things had changed and Harry was no longer needing to die, and so…

He made his mind. "I have some intelligence on the subject, yes. But there is something we need to clear out before we proceed to the topic."

Harry and Sirius looked expectantly.

Dumbledore stared at him in the eye. "How do you know about horcruxes so much?"

* * *

 **Sometime later…**

"I do not know what to think. I had an inkling about you being free of the horcrux inside your scar, and I had guessed that you must have gotten hit by a killing curse, but- A Fidelius? On your own mind? I am not sure what drove you to take such a desperate measure."

Harry grinned mirthlessly. "When I find that out, I will be sure to send you a letter."

Dumbledore looked solemn. "I am not sure why you decided to hide the fact from me."

Harry gave him an odd look. "You don't see us complaining that not only did you hide about the fact that there was a prophecy all these years, but also that you suspected that _I was a horcrux_. Deal with it."

That shut him up.

"Well, that was uncomfortable." Sirius breathed.

Harry chuckled. "That was an understatement, Sirius." He turned to Dumbledore, "Professor, we have shared all we knew about horcruxes. Hell, I even introduced you to someone who is an authority on the subject and has told us so much more that we didn't previously." He paused, "I only ask you to trust us now and share what you know."

Dumbledore considered it. The two had played him to an extent, but then again, hadn't he done the same for years? He cleared his throat. "I do have some… _guesses_ , but it is as good a start as any."

"Right." Harry looked optimistic. "What are they?"

Dumbledore went back to the shelf that housed his memory collections. "We can start by viewing-"

"The main facts, please." Harry stressed. "If it is necessary, we will view them later."

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, and then replied. 'Fine." He shifted back to his seat. "Tom Marvolo Riddle, born of Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Senior, a rich muggle from Little Hangleton."

"Hold on, Gaunt? As in the Ancient House of Gaunt?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"So that was how he got the locket…"

"Am I missing something?" Dumbledore queried.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Slytherin's locket. The last heir of Slytherin married into the Gaunt family. If Tom got the locket, it must be from-"

"Actually. You are wrong." Dumbledore answered with a smile.

"How?"

"To know that, you have to see the memories."

Harry sighed. "Fine. Let's be done with the blasted memories."

* * *

"Let me get this straight. This kid, let me rephrase myself, this _kleptomaniac_ kid, grew up to Lord Voldemort? I don't believe this." Sirius pronounced.

"Doesn't make it any less true." Harry stated. "So from your collected memories, we can hope that like Slytherin's locket, Voldemort might have converted two other items into horcruxes, namely- the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff, and the Gaunt family ring." He dotted down the items on a piece of parchment.

 _Slytherin's locket._

 _Hufflepuff's Cup_

 _Gaunt family ring._

 _Harry Potter (accidental)_

 _Gryffindor?_

 _Ravenclaw?_

"I can see what you are trying to do, Harry, but it is not a fact that he just managed to acquire artifacts from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw as well." Dumbledore challenged.

"It is a start as good as any." His eyes stared at the Sorting Hat. "Could you tell us anything about the artifacts that Gryffindor or Ravenclaw left to their future generations?"

The Sorting Hat hmm'd and haww'd before it finally settled on an answer. "Mister Potter, the only thing that Gryffindor left to the school was his sword. Though, I'm sure you know it, the sword is _not_ imbued with any kind of _contaminant_."

"And?"

The hat considered it before answering. "There is his _staff_. It was lost after his death. Though, I am not sure if it will help, but Godric rarely used his staff. He preferred to channel his magic through the sword, as he did on countless occasions."

"Doesn't matter." Sirius stated. "The staff is a magical artifact, and if Voldemort somehow acquired it, he could have-"

"That thought is not going to lead us anywhere, Sirius." Harry deadpanned. "Look, there are thousands of magical artifacts out there, and countless more have been lost to history. If we go on to search for every possible artifact out there and check if it is his horcrux, we might as well give up now." He paused, closing his eyes as he tried to think. "We need a start, and we start from something that is closely associated with him."

"Harry, Voldemort wouldn't be so stupid as to leave clues about how or where he acquired it." Sirius stressed.

"he would have killed them all, whoever knew anything about said artifacts." Dumbledore added.

"Then we search for the _lack of clues_." Harry pronounced. "professor, can we get access to the DMLE archives?"

Dumbledore smiled. "That is an ingenious idea, my boy."

Sirius looked confused. "What are we talking about?"

Harry smiled. "We are talking about looking for traces in the history of crime. If Voldemort killed them, then the deaths must be reported."

"Hundreds of deaths happen. How can we possibly-"

"Well Voldemort was a Slytherin. He wouldn't have wanted people to link him with those deaths. He would have _framed_ -" Dumbledore mused.

"Like he framed Hagrid over Myrtle's death!" Harry replied excitedly. He turned to Sirius, "We need to look out for deaths that were _inconspicuous_. Deaths in which people _might_ have been framed."

Dumbledore smiled. "I think I might have just the thing for that."

"That doesn't solve the main issue, though." Sirius interrupted. "We do not know how _many_ horcruxes can be created in the first place. For all we know, the highest number might just be _three_ , and we have already destroyed them. All of this… research might just be useless unless we know the _maximum_ number of these objects."

"I must confess my knowledge in Arithmancy doesn't reach the level required for soul magics. However, if Horace-" Dumbledore began.

"Wait, professor." Harry interrupted him. "—you think that this… Professor Slughorn, might have the knowledge regarding the _number_ of horcruxes Tom might have created?"

"It is an idea." Dumbledore offered.

"Yes, but Slughorn wasn't an Arithmancer." Sirius challenged. "He was a potions master."

"One who delved deeply into the dark arts too." Dumbledore replied. "Horace… he is more of a collector. He prizes information and connections. I was hoping to get him a post over here, though I might need your help in _convincing_ him."

Harry stared at him. "That might be, but this Horace Slughorn, he was not an Arithmancer. How do we know that the information he gave was _correct_ in the first place?" Dumbledore opened his mouth but Harry beat him to it. "No offence, professor, but I am sure that you will agree that we do not know about this subject a lot. Mind-Healer Nagnok did give us a lot of help, but I am sure we need a gifted Arithmancer to figure out how many horcruxes are possible?"

"I do not think it is going to be that easy, Harry." Dumbledore looked worried.

"Why?"

"You do not just need an Arithmancer. You need someone who can employ Arithmancy in the forbidden arte of soul magic. You are not going to get any such person."

"There must be someone, Professor. Perhaps from the other guilds?" Harry stressed.

"The Necromancer's Guild might know. In fact, I am almost sure they know."

"Then we need to go there." Harry stressed.

"You do not understand, Harry. The secret Guilds, they are not public. One just cannot barge into their locations, not even Masters from the other Guilds. There is only one way to find and enter those guilds and that is with the help of someone who has finished his mastery from them."

"And do you know any such person?"

Dumbledore considered it. "I think there might be someone who could, help us. Though, it is an ambition doomed from the start. I might just go so far as to suggest that _convincing_ Voldemort himself to reveal it might just be an _easier_ task."

Harry was far from convinced. "Who is this person?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Someone whom I thought I would never see ever again. He is a captive, held behind the wards of the most formidable prison on earth." He turned to look at Harry in the eye.

"Gellert Grindelwald."


	36. Chapter 36 : The best laid plans

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Dumbledore considered it. "I think there might be someone who could, help us. Though, it is an ambition doomed from the start. I might just go so far as to suggest that convincing Voldemort himself to reveal it might just be an easier task."_

 _Harry was far from convinced. "Who is this person?"_

 _Dumbledore sighed. "Someone whom I thought I would never see ever again. He is a captive, held behind the wards of the most formidable prison on earth." He turned to look at Harry in the eye._

 _"Gellert Grindelwald."_

* * *

 _Where am I? What is this place?_

"This is your mind," boomed a very familiar voice. Harry spun back, only to see his own face, only that his bright green eyes had been replaced by stormy gray ones. There were other differences too. This man- his doppelganger, had long, unruly hair, falling back over his shoulders, and his gray eyes had a primal, animalistic look in them. They were around the same height, though Harry thought that he was on the slightly shorter side, and also, the other man was heavily built, wearing the dress of a real, ancient Warmage.

"Ignotus? Ignotus Peverell?"

"Yes." The man spat. "And you are the annoying insect that is my reborn soul."

"How am I, here?" Harry asked, looking around the place in worry. Even if it was his own mind, he did not know how he had come here, and Ignotus being present was a cause of worry in itself.

"You are here, because I brought you here." Ignotus sneered. "You have taken undue advantage of my knowledge so far. From now on, unless you give me something in return, I will seal away any knowledge that you know courtesy of me."

Harry raised his eyebrows. A lot of his skills were from Ignotus. If those were to vanish at such moment-

"Fine," Harry spat, "what do you want this time?"

"A release, from this prison. But that is not an option, is it?" He sneered. "I would want to make myself the dominant soul and throw you into this void to watch someone in control of your body and your power for eternity, but unfortunately, that isn't an option either."

Harry looked annoyed. But then, something happened. He felt a shiver of bloodlust shoot through him.

"Did you feel that? The energy, the bloodlust running through your veins? I want that. I want to experience that. You give it to me. I grant you the knowledge."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Harry challenged, feeling slightly dizzy and exhilarated at the same time.

"Silly boy. You can go on a rampage. Kill these vermin, these death eaters or whatever they are known as. Kill them, and let me experience the thrill of the kill. You do that for me. I give you the knowledge." Ignotus spat.

"I am not a murderer."

"No," Ignotus laughed out loud, "No-no-no-no, no-no-noh! You are much _worse._ You are a _butcher_. It is in your blood, boy. Live it, use that nagging feeling inside you, the feeling that wants you to destroy the whole world and burn it down, the feeling that makes you want to obliterate those that have hurt your close ones. This bastard's horcruxes has almost taken away your mate from you. This bastard has taken away your parents from you. It is time that you take from him what he loves."

Harry stayed silent.

"It's time for you to decide, boy. Stay on the moral high ground and watch as your little world gets torn apart. Nothing happens to me. At least, I get to say you that I told you so. Or, take up your mantle of the _destroyer_ and destroy your enemies with extreme prejudice."

His blood sang to him, his magic, his power swirling inside his veins bubbled in rage and excitation, wanting to come outside and be used, to cause destruction…

"Wreak havoc…"

Harry suppressed the feelings rising within him as his Occlumency shields rose up. "I am not a monster."

"Hahahahaha! That is a joke if I ever heard one. You know you are a monster. No wait. Monsters get killed. You are not a monster. You are destruction. You are carnage itself. Accept what you are and you will have a power you have never known. Together, we can achieve anything that we want. All my knowledge can be yours. This world, we can burn it and then chop it into little pieces at whim. We can enslave the world and rule on it. Anything is possible, all you need is to accept what you are, and what you can be."

"No. I am not going to do that. There are people, good people, who do not deserve to be killed." Harry returned defiantly.

Ignotus laughed out loud. His mocking tone irritated him.

"Your naivety amuses me. Goodness is an illusion. Remember how these people vilified you again and again."

"Stop it."

"Their morals... their code… it's a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. Don't say that you trust them to choose you over their family, for they won't. They are only as good as the world allows them to be. When the chips are down, these… civilized people, they will eat each other." Ignotus walked up to him and held his shoulders firmly.

"Stop it." Harry returned, feeling all weak from within.

"You have seen how the Ministry treated you unfairly. That is the truth, boy. People don't want to have their illusions destroyed. You give your blood, sweat and tears for them, and in return, they will judge you based on their moods and needs." Ignotus's voice had a compulsion that he found becoming exceeding hard to resist. His mind was bombarded with the times when people misjudged him, betrayed him…He saw his father get killed…watched his mother scream as the green light of the curse-

"STOP!" Harry panted. "YOU ARE WRONG. YOU ARE A MONSTER. I AM NOT LIKE YOU."

He suddenly stopped. He was sleeping on his bed in the Room of Requirement. He was back to the real world. He conjured a towel and rubbed off the sweat lingering on his face. And then Ignotus spoke inside his mind again.

 _Hahahahaha! You_ _ **are**_ _me! Harry Potter! When Oblivion comes, and when the world finds its end at the blade of war, you and I… we will be the one wielding the blade. See I am not a monster; I am just ahead of the curve. My offer stands, boy. Give me my bloodlust, and I will give you the knowledge you need. I can help you get your mate back, just the way she was before the incident. Give or take._

Silence.

" _Time is not going to wait forever, Harry Potter. Tick-tock! Tick-tock!"_

* * *

 **Dumbledore's office…**

Albus Dumbledore banged his palms in an infuriated manner on his table. Sirius flinched at his expression as Harry turned back from the book shelf.

"This won't work. I told you, we are doomed from the start."

"Something wrong?" Harry offered.

"Yes." Dumbledore sighed. "I am just coming from Nurmengard. I had a meeting with my once-best friend. Gellert Grindelwald?"

"Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore were chubbies? This is gold." Sirius almost sniggered. Controlling his expressions, he continued, "What went wrong?"

"As we suspected," Albus replied, sagging into his chair, "Gellert not knows where the Necromancer's Guild might be, but also, he was a Master and an accomplished one at that." He paused, "there is just a little problem, one which I have confirmed."

"Which is-"

"You can enter the Necromancer's Guild _with_ a Necromancy Master, unless of course, you have been invited from the Guild itself. And that means-"

"Gellert Grindelwald has to be broken out." Harry deadpanned.

Dumbledore looked at Harry in utter shock. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" He looked at Sirius who stood silent. "Gellert Grindelwald was a dark lord, one that was capable of waging a war against the ICW war-wizard contingent." He paused, "Harry, horcruxes or not, one does NOT break a dark lord out of prison for any reason."

"Professor, you yourself told us the previous night, that Gellert himself built Nurmengard as his own protective fortress. In short, the man has to know every nook and cranny of the fortress, better than the security at any rate. YET," Harry paused, "he has not even made one single move to break out of it since…. what… _fifty years?"_

Dumbledore had to admit, Harry had a point. He did not reply, not willing to even acknowledge that his friend, the dark lord Gellert Grindelwald had felt _remorse_ of all things and had accepted his fate at Nurmengard.

"Harry, you have a point, but if I know one thing about Gellert, it is that he can be incredibly patient about things. His secrets have secret; his plans have plans. If the man was any sharper, he would have perhaps defeated the Guilds and won over them, becoming the highest power in the world. It was only a matter of _luck_ , that something _odd_ had happened that disturbed his machinations and everything went down because of the defeat of one single person."

"That being?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Titania. _Lady Titania Gaunt_. The dark lord Grindelwald's lieutenant. She was single-handedly responsible for keeping the soldiers of the 11th Company away from France. I was in the 13th Company, representing the Transfiguration Guild, fighting against Gellert's army on the other side. Titania single-handedly kept the most powerful contingent at bay, leaving Gellert free to manage the war on my front."

"Sounds fairly powerful. This Titania." Harry mused.

"Exceptionally powerful. By my estimates, she was of Gellert's own level in terms of power, and all modesty aside, I was slightly more powerful than Gellert himself was."

"Right." Sirius commented.

"What happened then?" Harry questioned.

Dumbledore looked up with a smile. "Both of your grandfathers were part of the 11th company, fighting against Titania. The Company had endured several losses and Titania was about to obliterate them all. If that had happened, Gellert would have been completely free to exert all of his forces on me and my company. None of us would have survived."

"What happened?" Harry stressed.

"I do not know. Something happened and in a single battle, Titania was defeated and killed. According to both of your grandfathers, they had some kind of help, but refused to share what kind of help it had been, and here I quote, _'help rained down from the sky and Titania stood no chance.'_ Even to this day, I have no idea what either of them meant by that."

Sirius and Harry exchanged glances instantly.

"What happened then?" Sirius asked.

"Titania was the last of his lieutenants. With her dead, both the battalions surrounded the rest of his army, leaving me free to battle Gellert alone. I am not ashamed to say that without that intervention, I would simply be another name in history, and not standing in front of you."

"That's… some tale." Harry replied. "Nevertheless, I cannot help but ask. Why didn't you kill Gellert?"

Dumbledore looked at him as his eyes burned with something like rage. "Because death would be very easy for someone like him. Instead, I took away everything from him- his power, his wand hand, and held him captive inside the very fortress he raised to hold his prisoners."

"And now you had to go and ask for help." Sirius pointed out.

Dumbledore gave him an irritated look, which was very uncharacteristic of him, as he snapped. "Yes, I did, Sirius, thank you for pointing out the obvious."

"So Gellert Grindelwald is a squib at the moment?" Harry stressed.

"No." Albus sighed. "The spell discharged his magical core, rendering him unable to cast magic for some hours, when I cut off his wand hand. The powerful wards at Nurmengard do the rest. While he is inside, he is a pseudo-squib, so it is not as if he has agreed to stay inside because of something like _remorse_." He snapped.

"All right." Harry conceded.

"Gellert made one thing very clear. If I wished for his help, I would have to break him out of prison. Then again, the quest is _impossible_ without breaking him out of prison anyway, not that we are going to do it." Albus stressed.

"What about the other Masters? Surely there must be many more Masters from the Guild? Maybe High Master-" Harry began.

"I have explored that situation. Samuel was very clear about it that it is the law for the other guilds to stay secret. Even if some Necromancy master is available, we will not know it because his mastery is shrouded in secrecy."

"And the one publicly known, is inside Nurmengard." Sirius seethed.

"Yes."

"Professor, even if there was the slightest chance of breaking him out of prison," Harry interjected, "what is the _guarantee_ that he will keep his word?"

"Gellert gave me his oath. He was very clear on it. If we broke him out, he would help us by taking us to the necromantic Guild." Albus replied sourly. "It is a choice between a rock and a hard place."

"Then we break him out." Harry returned. "I'm sorry, Professor but I am not finding any other alternatives."

Albus opened his mouth and then closed it. "—and how is that going to be possible? Nurmengard has very high security facility, and is unbreakable."

"Like Azkaban?" Sirius asked snidely.

"Better than Azkaban." Albus defended. "Nurmengard holds the most dangerous prisoners of all Magical Europe. The ICW itself takes care of the security. The security there makes Azkaban look like a children park."

Nobody replied.

"Besides, even if someone managed to get past the security, he will attract the wrath of the ICW." He looked at Harry, "I am not sure if I know anyone who will be up to the job."

Harry and Sirius looked at each other.

* * *

"Did I ever tell you how much I _love_ telling you, _I told you so?"_

Yes, the bloody Ignotus Peverell had brought him back into his mindscape once again. Understandably, Harry Potter was annoyed.

Very. Very. Annoyed.

"I suppose… you have some _fantastic_ idea by which you would be able to complete the entire action and yet get away without a trace…"

The smirk on Ignotus's face only deepened.

"And how? May I ask?" Harry asked with exasperation.

"You, cannot do it. However, I can." Ignotus replied.

"Yes, I understand that you are the greatest Warmage and without your knowledge-" Harry droned.

"You. Cannot. Do. It. Only. I. Can." Ignotus repeated, punctuating every word as if speaking to a child.

"You exist _only_ inside my head." Harry challenged.

"Only because _you_ do not share your body." Ignotus returned.

What? "No! no-no-no-no-noh!" Harry negated wildly, "-not happening. You will _burn_ the world if I let you out."

"I am your _only_ chance!" Ignotus pointed it out slyly.

"There will be no point in trying to find Voldemort's horcruxes if that means releasing a bigger monster into the world. Sorry, not happening."

Ignotus scowled. "Boy, will it help if I swear an oath that I will only kill those that come in my way? I will get this Grindelwald out, and _do my best to not kill_ the guards. However, I _cannot_ commit the same for the other prisoners if they come in my sight. Can't control my instincts."

Harry considered it. "What about giving me my body back?"

The scowl deepened. "You hold the dominant control. I do not see myself keeping your body if you force yourself."

"I want an oath that as soon as Grindelwald is broken out and we are out of Nurmengard, you will hand me my body back. Also, you will do nothing to anyone close to me."

"Very well."

"And also, you will _not_ restrict the knowledge I received from you. You are getting your bloodlust first-hand."

Ignotus snarled. "Very well."

* * *

 **Later at Black manor…**

"NO! THAT IS NOT A BLOODY OPTION! I AM NOT ALLOWING YOU TO GO AND DIE IN THAT PRISON!"

Harry stayed calm as he allowed Sirius to rage over him. He knew that his godfather would not listen to him unless he had his frustration and anger out of his system.

"I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU ARE BLOODY POWERFUL BUT THAT IS NURMENGARD. IF REQUIRED, I WILL DO IT, BUT NOT YOU! THAT IS FINAL!"

"Sirius…"

"I SAID NO AND THAT IS-"

"SIRIUS!" Harry snapped. Sirius stopped at his godson's sudden change in tone. "Please, lower the tone. I am right in front of you, you know."

That shut him up.

"Moreover, it won't technically be me that is going to break him out."

"But you just said-"

Harry glared at him. Sirius stopped his tirade midway.

"Do you remember what Nagnok mentioned about the soul from the wand?"

Sirius nodded.

"Well, during my training, there was this ritual that apparently activated all my dormant powers and magics. Somewhat unexpectedly, it also gave the soul shard the free will to communicate with me."

Sirius looked gob-smacked.

"Apparently, the older soul belongs to Ignotus Peverell, the last of the Peverells. The last Warmage of the Peverell name, anyway. We agreed that _he_ is going to take control of _my_ body and help us with extricating Grindelwald out of prison."

"Okay."

Harry stared at him. "Just okay?"

"Yes." Sirius responded. "Because this is the _biggest_ harebrained idea I have ever heard. I just have one question." He paused. "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR BLOODY MIND?"

"If you yell at me once more, Sirius, I swear I am going to throw curses at you." Harry snapped. "We have discussed things. He swore an oath on his _existence_ that he will go with the plan. He takes over, he breaks into the prison, extracts Grindelwald out, and then he gives me my body back."

"Right." Sirius deadpanned. "Just one problem. What about recognition? The security will recognize _you_."

"Glamour."

"Harry this is ICW security."

" _Muggle_. Glamour. The wards and the charms detect magical glamour, _not_ mundane."

"And how _exactly_ do you know that?"

Harry took out a little box out of his robes. "This, is something I had been working alongside one of my masters at the Guild." He held out the box. It was barely larger than a matchbox. "This tiny little contraption is something you call a _ward analyzer_. It does not break wards. It does not tamper with them. It simply reads them. It's similar to the map you created at school except that all it does is read and recognize wards and locations." He smirked. "I put it in Dumbledore's robes when he left for Nurmengard."

Sirius's face shifted into a hesitant grin.


	37. Chapter 37 : A perfect Heist

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _"Muggle. Glamour. The wards and the charms detect magical glamour, not mundane."_

 _"And how exactly do you know that?"_

 _Harry took out a little box out of his robes. "This, is something I had been working alongside one of my masters at the Guild." He held out the box. It was barely larger than a matchbox. "This tiny little contraption is something you call a ward analyzer. It does not break wards. It does not tamper with them. It simply reads them. It's similar to the map you created at school except that all it does is read and recognize wards and locations." He smirked. "I put it in Dumbledore's robes when he left for Nurmengard."_

 _Sirius's face shifted into a hesitant grin._

* * *

The general idea of Nurmengard is that it was a fortress that was converted into a makeshift prison by Grindelwald, however that couldn't really be far from the truth. From a closer look, Nurmengard was a humongous dome-shaped edifice, with a variety of wards and curses interwoven throughout the very fabric of the building. The perimeter of the dome was secured by hit-wizards employed by the ICW with patrols shifting every twelve hours. The guards were authorized to use anything and everything, even Unforgivables. The general policy was- _if you do not have enough self-preservation to stop yourself from intruding in, we do not have enough self-control from snuffing your life out._

If one could cross the security forces without claiming his life-insurance, they would be greeted at an entrance which included entering through a door which had the _Thief's downfall_ pouring in as a fountain all day. It acted as a defense against polyjuice or any other concealment charms, and even negated the effects of everything apart from a powerfully cast Imperius curse. From that onwards, was a receptionist's desk and a private bathroom- quite humorous, yes, but after getting wet in the Thief's downfall, most visiting officers needed to dry themselves up, and often wanted some privacy—hence the bathroom. Said officers had to check in at the receptionist's desk and after that, there was a thirty-foot long corridor that led to a lift and was interlaced with intent-based wards connected to various points in the walls that fired stunners should the wards be triggered. At the end of the corridor, was a lift that rose out of the golden dome into one of the two twin towers that snaked their way out of the dome towards the sky, entwining with each other in a serpentine fashion. Inside the twin towers were magic-suppressing prison rooms in which the most dangerous criminals of Magical Europe were locked in. The two towers were densely populated with Lethifolds who were the security inside the twin towers. The outer surfaces of the towers were protected with magic-resistant scales, capable of withstanding even the most powerful blasting curses, created using a special organo-metallic alloy synthesized by researchers at the ICW. At random points in the walls, there were detectors that randomly scanned the environment around them, looking for uncommon magical behavior in the environment around it. A dozen wyverns flew all around the tower, highly trained to attack any type of external intrusion from the skies should it come to their notice. In short, Nurmengard was impenetrable.

"That… is _quite_ difficult." Harry observed, as he studied the holographic projection of Nurmengard that Dumbledore had constructed. He went around the entire thing, observed everything neatly, trying to make sure that he had memorized every single fact about the entire structure.

 _You sure you can pass in through this security without any problems and break him out?_

No reply.

 _So the great Ignotus Peverell chickened out?_

 _No, you imbecile. I am just thinking. The security is good, that is true. Had it been an open war, it would have been easier. However, to move in, without revealing my presence, I suppose my skills and your power won't be enough._

 _Then?_

 _I… might need a couple of…_ _ **enhancements**_ _to pull this off._

 _Okay, and I suppose getting these… enhancements might be another difficult quest altogether._

 _Oh on the contrary, Potter, they are quite easy to access. One you already have with yourself._

 _And the others?_

 _Well it might sound ironic given who am I talking to, but I will keep that one to myself for the moment._

 _Suit yourself._

* * *

"Daphne… wake up?"

"Dad…" She tried to speak, but her lips did not move.

"Daphne…"

"Wake up, it is time for me to go. It is time for you to return back and embrace life once again…"

"Dad… I don't want to lose you..." she tried to say, but no words escaped her throat.

"Wake up…"

Her vision cleared, as she slowly lifted her eyelids. The fogginess lifted, as she found herself staring into the bright green eyes of Harry Potter sitting in front of her.

"Hey Daph!"

"Harry… is that really you?"

Harry nodded. Daphne's eyes filled with tears.

"Harry, my father…."

"Shhh… I know." He hugged her, as she cried into his chest. He held her close and then lifted her face to kiss her on her temples. "It is going to be okay." He reassured.

"Harry, I am sorry the way I behaved with- I can't believe I said all of that and then I-" she wept into his chest. "Please forgive me."

"It's okay, you didn't know what you were doing. You were under the influence of the locket. It is okay."

A shadow of hysteria crossed her face as she remembered the locket. "Harry, Harry I couldn't- I saw Dad calling me and I- it engulfed me, and I went with its-it was in my mind and it twisted things up and I was seeing things the way it showed me- I am sorry."

Harry held her close as he reminded himself once again of the reason why he was going to do what he was going to do. "Everything will be okay." He cupped Daphne's face and kissed her. "Everything will be okay, and you will be fine."

"But Harry, what if I again become like-"

"Shhh, you will be fine. You understand me? You are not going to become whatever- whatever it was the _locket_ was trying to turn you into. You are Daphne Greengrass, my betrothed and my would-be-wife. Understand?" he held her face firmly.

Daphne nodded.

"Now get some sleep. I will be telling Tracey and Astoria that you are up."

"Harry- Tori, she hates me. I know she does. The things I did-"

"Daph! Astoria was the one to save you. She and Tracey. They love you and they care for you. Understand this- no one is blaming you for anything. You were sad, and depressed and I wasn't there for you, and that… thing, it took undue advantage of the situation."

"But I could have been more-"

", It was an illusion, Daphne. That's something not even Occlumency can fight. It was not your fault." He paused, slowly getting off her. "Now, I am going out for some work, and Astoria and Tracey will be here until I return. Sound good?"

Daphne bobbed her head slowly.

Harry kissed her on her forehead as he darted out of the room.

* * *

"How is she?" Astoria asked. The younger Greengrass had rushed to him as he walked out of the Hospital wing. Harry smiled at her. "She is all right. She is… still a little shaken but I think she remembers what she did while under the influence of the… locket."

"But you said-"

Harry raised his hand. "I know what I said, but she seems to remember some of it, and is feeling very guilty about it. I think you and Tracey should-"

"We will be there." Tracey replied from the side.

"Great. I will ah—it will take me some time to get back. We are… umm, going for some project about the locket thing-"

"It's okay, Harry. We will stay with her, until you return."

"right—err" He took out, what seemed to be a tiny pen from within his robes. "Keep this with you. It will err- keep any annoyances away. Make sure that this stays close to Daphne."

Astoria nodded.

"See you then." Harry returned, before walking away.

"Tori?" Tracey called.

'Yes?"

"I think Daph is quite lucky to have him."

"I agree." Astoria agreed with a smile.

* * *

Inside the Room of Requirement, Harry stood all alone, ready for the shift. Taking a deep breath, he thought very clearly.

 _What do I need to do, for this great plan of yours?_

 _Oh there's nothing great. To be honest, it's quite simple. All you have to do is raise your Occlumency shields to maximum power and then let go of your senses. You will feel yourself floating in your mind space and I can take over. Of course, you will be able to watch what is going on._

 _Right. Remember your oath._

 _You don't have to remind me of that, boy. I know what I am doing._

 _Okay._

Harry raised his shields to maximum power, as he felt his consciousness slowly drifting out of his senses. He sensed agonizing pain fill his senses as he held on to them, feeling Ignotus rushing in to displace him. He held on to his body for a while, throwing all the power into his shields.

 _Fuck it. Do your worst._

He let go, as a mammoth wave of energy flooded out of him. The energy shone brightly as the souls shifted, with Harry taking the backside as he felt Ignotus take charge.

 _This feels awfully similar to when I am shifting into Shadow._

"Yes, it does." His voice spoke out, but the one who spoke it was not him. The color of his eyes had shifted to stormy grey instead of the usual bright green. Ignotus felt the body, the energy rushing through his nerves and constricted everything inside his core, in such a refined manner that Harry could never imagine. This was exactly what Master Thüringen had told him to master.

"I know that the staff looks cooler, but I will prefer it to be of my wand length, so…." No sooner had the words left his mouth, his magic shoved inside the staff, manipulating its shape to shorten itself to the original wand length.

"Better." He expressed, "and now, my _enhancements_ …" Ignotus spoke, as he raised his left hand as the Potter invisibility cloak soared out of his trunk. The cloak automatically rose up in the air, folded into itself, becoming much thicker, heavier and transformed itself to form a standard hooded, billowing cloak instead of being the silvery mass of drapes that Harry knew. The cloak automatically flung itself over Ignotus, hiding his face within the hood, with only the stormy grey eyes glowing from the distance.

 _What did you do to my cloak?_

 _Shut up. And it is not your cloak, it was mine. I made it myself._

Ignotus raised his hands in the air and muttered something obscure, as a wind of magic soared and swirled all around him. The door of the Room banged open as the mythical elder wand soared through the air, resting into his right hand—the magic inside the wand singing as _blood and wand_ were joined at last. The core seemed to sing in tune as wand and master had rejoined, its master come to take control at last.

"My wand… how I have missed you…" Ignotus proclaimed, his fingers caressing the surface of the wand. For some reason, the stone could not appear to him, something that left him confused. It was impossible, the stone would always answer his call, it had to do so. The only way the properties of the stone would be hindered would be-

Ignotus snarled. Someone had bound the stone in another _necromantic_ binding. Given the situation, there was only _one_ form of binding that his summons could not break.

 _I will kill that bastard. He had the gall to use my stone in a -_

 _What happened?_

 _Nothing. Nothing that you will understand, anyway._

 _Isn't that the Headmaster's wand?_

 _No, you fool. This is mine, was mine, will always be mine… and now, we walk the path of destruction…_

The air around him suddenly seemed to turn foggy, as he vanished with a crack sound. The wards of Hogwarts _did not_ even trigger as they sensed him go.

* * *

The security of Nurmengard shifted every twelve hours. This also the same time when the wyverns were called down from the air and fed. The entire thing took place within one hour, and the entire security was back on. For the particular one hour, the Lethifolds were granted exit into the skies as a substitute for the wyverns, and at the first point of an appearing wyvern, the Lethifold swarm would just return into the tower. Apparently, wyvern fire affected the Lethifolds greatly.

Ignotus appeared a few yards away from the main ward perimeter of the dome, holding the Elder wand in his right hand and his staff (shortened to a wand length in his left). He could sense the offensive magics of the wards weaved in a quasi-four dimensional matrices and interspersed all over the dome.

 _So much magic wasted in protecting a bunch of vermin. Wouldn't it be better to kill them all and be done with it? Good call, now that I think on it._

The cloak activated with his thoughts, providing him complete and _impenetrable_ protection as he walked through the wards as if they weren't even there. He passed through them, using his wandless levitation, not wanting to test if the security had any kind of weight-based wards thrown around. The cloak did mask his magic, but the same could not be said about his mass, and secrecy was of the highest order. It was unfortunate. Extremely, unfortunate.

He silently passed through the compound where the wyvern tamers were busy feeding the wyverns and chatting with each other. _Force of habit_ , Ignotus presumed. After all, no one could really reach this part without having any kind of altercation with the external security.

 _Time to use one of the boy's own skills. It is a shame we never were able to defeat the Grims and conquer their magic._

 _What are you going to do?_ The boy sounded inside his head.

 _Watch and learn._

He smirked. It was time the boy learnt the true nature of the power he used so casually. He raised his wands and began his work.

* * *

The ground security had finished its shift transition and was back into form. The guards had reactivated every single defense, and the wyverns and the Lethifolds were back into their usual positions. The head of security, one Joseph Matthias, also known as Warden Matthias, who was in charge of the security of the dome, bit into the apple in his hand as he walked out of his office room. Nurmengard did not have many visitors, with the sole exception of some extremely high-level Ministry officials who sometimes, came in for a surprise inspection from the ICW. The Supreme Mugwump for instance, had arrived two days ago to interrogate their most notorious prisoner—the dark lord Grindelwald. As it was, the Supreme Mugwump had arrived and passed through all the checks and defenses without triggering anything, proving that he was who he claimed to be and had come in without any unfair intention in mind. Matthias for one, had great respect for a man, who had personally defeated the dark lord and saved entire Europe from burning down. Albus Dumbledore had come in for the inspection, and that meant that the coming five months would have no visitors and no sudden trigger breaches. Normal, _uninterrupted_ days. He had just crossed the receptionist's desk when-

The perimeter wards triggered wildly. He threw the apple into the bin and raced back to his room. The trigger meant one of two things- either someone had come in without previous authorization, or someone had intruded into the dome. Matthias wondered which was a more foolish thing to do.

He raced in front of the wide magical screen inside his room which displayed the recordings of the monitoring charms placed all around the perimeter. What he saw shocked and surprised him beyond belief.

Albus Dumbledore, the Supreme Warlock had just traversed into the secure perimeter without authorization.

"Sir, the intruder resembles Supreme Mugwump. No previous authorization or permit on record, sir." Came the swift voice from the receptionist.

"Send someone from the ground staff to meet him. Follow the _usual_ protocol."

One of the men from Ground Security walked up to the Supreme Mugwump, who was striding into the main compound. The moment he entered into the inner proximity ward, the intent-scanner triggered automatically.

"Initial Scan. Genuine. No malicious intent. Sir."

"Continue. This visit, even if it is _the Albus Dumbledore_ , it is unauthorized. Follow regular instructions for _unauthorized intrusion_." Matthias ordered.

"Copied, Sir." The ground staff answered instantly. He stood in front of the Supreme Mugwump, who seemed to look a little short of breath. "Supreme Mugwump, sir. Your arrival was not authorized."

"Right you are, my boy," Albus Dumbledore replied. "It has taken me by surprise. My last visit to dark lord Grindelwald got me into a severe problem, one that I am hoping will be solved by _another_ round of interrogation."

Everyone at Nurmengard knew it that Albus Dumbledore had interrogated Grindelwald the other day, with the other man replying back in some obscure language, which Albus Dumbledore had been able to comprehend. Since it was a private interrogation classified under Delta Green, the officers hadn't been allowed to record it, but the guards standing on the outer door had heard a few unfamiliar sounding words before the privacy ward had activated.

"Sir, I hope you understand that protocol demands us that you follow through the usual checks for unauthorized intrusion."

"Of course, of course. The protocols must be followed. Let's be done with them as I am in a bit of hurry today."

The guard smiled. "Right away, Sir."

* * *

"Well I will be damned; it _is_ Albus Dumbledore." Mathias thought as the venerated old wizard stepped in, after a _thorough_ wash through the Thief's downfall as he entered through the main entrance, and waved his wand to dry himself off.

"Are there any more security protocols to be followed, Warden Matthias?" Dumbledore inquired.

Matthias looked slightly embarrassed. "Not at all, sir. Just through this lift. We have secured the outer perimeter and performed all checks. Welcome to Nurmengard."

Dumbledore smiled. "You people have a strong security task force. I am impressed."

Matthias smiled reluctantly. "The best in the world, Sir. There is no way someone can cause any problems here at Nurmengard while our security-"

BOOOM!

A huge wave of magic crashed against the dome's outer periphery, slamming against Matthias who fell down on the floor. Dumbledore had luckily conjured up a shield to prevent the shockwave from getting to him. Matthias quickly rebounded back and yelled up into his communication earring. "REPORT!"

"Sir, the wyverns have gotten out of control. One of them belched flames into one of the major wardstones resulting in the shockwave, sir."

"WHICH ONE WAS IT?"

"The anti-Lethifold unit, sir."

"DAMN!" Matthias roared in fury. Wand waving out, he rushed out of the room. He never saw Albus Dumbledore smirk back and disappear from the main corridor. The game was afoot.

The anti-Lethifold ward was perhaps the most-sensitive and vulnerable ward in the entire security. Though, considering everything, it was not a vulnerability since the wyverns were more than capable of handling the situation if the Lethifolds demonstrated any unusual activity. Nobody ever thought of the possibility that the wyverns could also destroy the anti-Lethifold wardstone, leaving the ground security completely vulnerable.

For some reason, the wyverns had broken out of control and were raging down over the Ground security, while the Lethifolds were forcing through the other stations, wrecking down everything now that they had their chance to get free and attack their captors after so long. The ward had been responsible for keeping them inside, when Grindelwald himself had trapped them inside the twin towers, and then the ICW had simply taken advantage of their situation.

"READY?" Matthias roared, "PATRONUSES AT THREE!" He commanded as he took position among the rest of his security team. One half of the entire contingent were bust trying to subdue the dragons, leaving him and half of his staff to fight against the three hundred Lethifold swarm that shot towards them.

"Dumbledore, sir, a little help would be appreciated!" Matthias called out. Receiving no reply, he looked back, "Dumbledore-", his eyes widened as he witnessed the trail of blood roll down from the receptionist's desk.

 _Damn!_

* * *

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Nine pairs of sickly green killing curses shot towards Ignotus who simply raised his wands and slammed them into the ground, raising two humongous rocks from the ground to resist the curses as he disappeared from their sight, only to appear simultaneously on left and right and fired powerful severing hexes. The guards put up high-powered shields to deflect the curses, when the very same curses disappeared midway only to come from the back, severing their body parts. Ignotus stood, watching the mangled remains of the guards drop down on the floor.

 _That was easy._

He disappeared again.

 _Now, how do I get into the towers without passing through the lift? Oh right, flying._

He ascended through the main air vent, the magic of the cloak allowing him to pass undetected through the layers of magical wards weaved in the space all around him. To think that his future descendants thought of this…. Beauty as an invisibility cloak, it was almost an insult to his masterpiece. The cloak was not just a cloak; it was a _piece_ from the very _Veil of Death_ that had been existent in Albion since Time immemorial. Enchanted to thestral skin and powered by the Peverell family magic, the cloak simply turned the wearer into someone who was both alive and dead at the same time, making him _completely immune_ to any kind of curses but the strongest of those employing necromantic or soul-magic. The _wand of death_ , to kill people and send their souls to the afterlife, the _stone of resurrection_ , cut out from the very archway of the Veil of Death, used to resurrect the dead and use them for a time being, and finally the cloak-one which simply reduced the wearer to someone who was untouched any spell while under it, insurmountable, unconquerable, Just like _Death_ himself.

To think that their glorified event of mastering the power of Death's own antiquities, was now reduced to a book for children's stories… it was an insult. He suppressed the urge to burn the world once again. If not for the stupid boy who had forced an oath out of him-it still boggled him how the priorities of his own, reborn soul could be so… _pedestrian._

He reached out of the dome and finally landed on the first level of the tower. According to what the old man had shown him, Grindelwald was held somewhere on the second level, along with a variety of other notorious prisoners. Briefly, he played with the idea of extracting Grindelwald out while setting Fiendfyre to the rest, at least by that way, he would be fulfilling his _duties_ , but then again….

He smirked.

An entire swarm of Lethifolds were still inside, and sensing the intruder who had suddenly revealed himself, the entire swarm floated towards him, their rattling sounds increasing with excitation about a real, powerful prey to feed on. Said _prey_ was standing in a cross path, holding two wands in either hand and smirking at them while the swarm of predators flew towards him, ready to eat up his soul… It had been ages since they had tasted a full soul… it was almost maddening.

Ignotus saw the Lethifolds edge closer, as he tightened his grasp on his wands. A part of his duties were to make sure that these… vermin were obliterated from the mortal world. It seemed that ever since he had left the mortal plane, these… abominations had bred and expanded their population to alarming levels. Seriously, could he expect _no one_ to get up from sitting on their arses and do some _productive_ work?

 _If you want something done proper, do it yourself._

He raised his wands up towards the incoming horde, and smiled. Instantly, a flurry of light spears shot out of his wand, piercing through the Lethifolds, injuring them beyond belief. Realizing that the prey was actually a predator who could actually, _unbelievably,_ kill them, the Lethifolds sensed their plight and turned away, but the light spears raining on them continued their slaughter, until not even one was left alive… _if_ those abominations were _alive_ in the first place.

He smiled.

 _Feels good to be back. No matter what anyone says, the satisfaction of finishing one's job is the greatest._

He walked through the second floor corridor, the mundane mask still etched on his face, while the cloak making sure that his magic was _not detected_ by any person or ward. To think that his descendants used his cloak like a _silvery bedsheet_ to make themselves _invisible_ , instead of rendering it to its _original_ hooded-cloak form was hopelessly disappointing. The Potters had indeed _demolished_ the name of the Peverells. He would have to do something about that soon.

* * *

In front of him was something akin to a labyrinth. The walls were magic-resistant ( _officially_ , that is) and behind them, were tiny cubicles, one of which housed Gellert Grindelwald. Layers upon layers of powerful wards were interlaced in this place.

 _Let's see how powerful the wards are. I believe the old man was in the third cell of the fourth row if I entered this maze from... here._

Walking through the rows, he found his destination. There, inside the cubicle, a half-dead old man lay fallen on the floor. Anyone else would have believed it as fact, but Ignotus could sense a deception from a mile away.

"Get up, old man, I am here to get you."

Gellert Grindelwald turned his head slowly, his eyes- one jet black and the other, a complete white eye, with only a sliver of silver to prove that it had a pupil, looked at Ignotus, who stood outside his cell. Despite staying inside the prison for half a century, his eyes reeked of a constrained power and frightful intelligence.

"Have you come to _kill_ me?" He asked slowly.

"No, but I _will_ if you don't stop with your pretentious behavior. Get up, and I will get you out of here." Ignotus answered, the voice-modulating charm changing his voice effectively once again. The wardstone responsible for nullifying any wand magic cast in the room was active and there was no way he would shatter it. It would release all the prisoners, and that was not something he wished to do.

He closed his eyes as he increased the magic flowing through his nerves, and shifted his fist into stone. He smirked. The boy was indeed, quite resourceful. If only he wasn't as headstrong and close-minded, he could have taught him so much. It was unfortunate that things were the way they were.

"Have you come to free him? Please free me out of this place too. I will give you anything you want." Said a voice behind him. Ignotus spun back to see another prisoner, banging his head. He looked back at Gellert, giving a pointed look towards the other man. "Who's that?"

"A mass-murderer. Sentenced to life-long imprisonment at Nurmengard." Gellert replied offhandedly.

Ignotus smirked. With one single blow, he shattered the doors of both of the cubicles, freeing both of them. With one single look, he wandlessly fired a petrifaction hex at Grindelwald who dropped down on the floor, before he transfigured him into a little rat, before stunning the rat for good measure and putting him back inside the robes.

 _Step one complete. Time for step two._

He raised his hands and looked at the other man. "Run out of the room, and wait for me." The man followed his orders without question.

 _Time for me to resume my duties._

Huge balls of fire erupted out of both hands, as he merged them, transfiguring and retransfiguring them in matter of seconds, as the flames heated up exponentially. Satisfied that the fireball was now almost equivalent to pure Fiendfyre, he threw up a powerful locking ward all around the room and threw the fireball towards the other cells. The prisoners cried out in agony as the cursed flame rained upon them, obliterating them from existence, as Ignotus walked out, the cloak allowing him to pass through the locking wards effortlessly.

 _Wastes of magic and life…_

He walked out of the room, as the other prisoner ran up to him. "What's next?"

"We break out. Follow me." Ignotus hissed before he blasted through the second floor, blasting through one of the air vents that the Lethifolds used to float out of the compound into the atmosphere. Holding the man firmly, he summoned his magic, transporting them far away from the outer perimeter of Nurmengard.

The two of them reappeared on the ground, the other man immediately falling down on his feet. "Thank you," he panted, "thank you for saving me."

Ignotus smirked. "I only agreed to break you out of prison. I never said anything about _saving_ you." His palm was upon the man's face before the man could even register his words. The last thing the prisoner saw was the stormy grey eyes before his world was inundated in crimson flames.

* * *

 **The next day…**

An excerpt from the Daily Prophet…

 **DESTRUCTION AT NURMENGARD! THE 'UNBREAKABLE' PRISON BROKEN! **

**An event which shocked the entire world happened the previous day when under very shocking circumstances, a security breach occurred at Nurmengard, leading to not only destruction of the security compound, but also breakout of one prisoner. The true reasons for the security breach are yet to be discovered.**

 **The previous day afternoon, the security compound reported that the Supreme Mugwump Albus Dumbledore himself had visited the prison despite any advance authorization mentioning his arrival, which was highly suspicious. However, the Head of Security reported that the imposter (since the** _ **real**_ **Albus Dumbledore was busy presiding in an ICW emergency session at the very moment) had indeed passed through the intent-based wards and the Thief's downfall. How it had actually been possible is a matter of speculation. Have terrorists finally come up with something that can resist the effects of Thief's downfall, which is powerful enough to wash out the effects of Imperius Curse, one of the three Unforgivables, the casting of even one of which is enough to throw the caster into Azkaban if reported and caught. (To know more about the Unforgivables, please visit Page 4).**

 **The Head of Security, Warden Matthias also stated that due to some odd phenomenon, the highly trained wyverns attacked the wardstone holding up the anti-Lethifold ward. Readers would be interested to know that the prison of Nurmengard was home to around three-hundred Lethifolds, the exact amount being uncertain. While it is now established that Albus Dumbledore himself had nothing to do with this, the motives of the security breach are still uncertain.**

" **The entire prison room on the second floor has been obliterated using powerful flames. A paradoxical and explained phenomenon since the wardstone responsible for nullifying any magic cast there is intact. All of the prisoners, including the notorious dark lord Gellert Grindelwald was killed in the flames, though it has been impossible to tell since the flames have left no evidence.**

 **The monitoring wards however, do show one peculiar thing. One of the prisoners, one Gareth Zabini, mass-murderer who had been sentenced to lifetime imprisonment at Nurmengard for his crimes, had been seen running out of the second floor. No image of the intruder has been obtained, for reasons unknown. It is speculated that the intruder had come to extract Gareth Zabini out from Nurmengard, though why the intruder had killed the other prisoners is uncertain," Warden stated.**

" **The ICW hit-wizard contingent has been called in to look for Gareth Zabini, along with any kind of trace regarding the identity of the intruder. We expect some leads from them quite soon." Said Sebastian Delacour, the ICW representative from France.**

 **Whether the intruder only wanted to break Gareth Zabini out, or had some other intentions, is yet to be revealed. The fact however, holds that there is an incredibly sharp and powerful terrorist in the magical world, one who has broken into Nurmengard. The people of Magical Britain are requested to report any incidents or behavior of questionable nature that has been happening in and around Magical Britain.**

* * *

 **Meanwhile...**

Far away in the sandy world of Egypt, an old man stood in front of a huge fortress that suddenly manifested in front of him. Beside him, stood two other people- one being the Supreme Mugwump, and the other being the very person who had freed him from Nurmengard. The magical fortress pulsed with eldritch energies as Gellert Grindelwald whispered some obscure incantations, as a great bridge manifested between them and the fortress.

"Welcome," he said in a dramatic voice, "To Castle Negrul. The Home to the Necromancer's Guild."


	38. Chapter 38 : Castle Negrul

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _Far away in the sandy world of Egypt, an old man stood in front of a huge fortress that suddenly manifested in front of him. Beside him, stood two other people- one being the Supreme Mugwump, and the other being the very person who had freed him from Nurmengard. The magical fortress pulsed with eldritch energies as Gellert Grindelwald whispered some obscure incantations, as a great bridge manifested between them and the fortress._

 _"Welcome," he said in a dramatic voice, "To Castle Negrul. The Home to the Necromancer's Guild."_

* * *

"Castle... Negrul? The _original_ castle Negrul?" Dumbledore repeated with disbelief.

"What is this… _castle_ , Professor?" Harry asked. He had removed his mask and was now standing beside Dumbledore and Grindelwald, with the latter still muttering some incantations as the bridge became more and more distinct and solid with time.

" _Castle Negrul_ … is one of the many myths of the Wizarding World, Harry, like Myrrdin Emrys, the shackles of Doom, the staff of Galbraith, and many more. This castle… this was the place that had given rise to the beings of the dark... or at least that is the rumor. Apparently, Dementors, Lethifolds and all kinds of nightmarish creatures had entered the mortal world because of some kind of necromantic experiment gone wrong inside this castle."

 _Funny how rumors have the tendency to twist simple truths into obscure fiction._

 _You know something?_

Ignotus had kept his word. The moment his job was over, Ignotus had apparated off to a random location and given up control. Harry had once again returned to his senses, and it would be unfair to say that the entire ordeal had been a little more than mildly painful.

 _The Castle Negrul was the very spot where necromancers had torn through the barriers of the mortal world to create a permanent gateway into the world of Death. A gateway that has ever since existed in this plane, and will exist forever._

 _You mean-_

 _An archway, one that leads into the world of the Dead. A one-way path through which no soul has ever returned. When a person dies, his soul passes into the realm of Death, but the archway is such that a living person can be sent through it into the realm of death._

 _What happens to them?_

 _They die. Their bodies instantly burn up in the black flames, leaving only the soul to journey forward. The laws of necromancy are fair. To receive, you must give in equal amounts. Nothing more. Nothing less. The Necromancers hosted the gateway at Castle Negrul, and in return_ _ **, the Powers that be**_ _demanded the castle and its inhabitants to be sucked in forever, owing to the disrespect they had shown by trying to open a portal to the other world. Ever since then, Castle Negrul is always on the move, travelling across time and space, unable to stay up at any place or time beyond three minutes, because any more than that and the powers of Death would catch them. That is, Castle Negrul is neither here, nor there, but everywhere._

 _A castle that shifts across space and time? And I thought that Hagrid was crazy when he said that I was a wizard and could do magic._

Harry laughed inwardly. There was another question which he could not help but ask.

 _How do you know so much about it?_

 _(Laugh.) Because I am the sailor who sails the boat, and ferries souls across to the realm of the dead. I am the watchman who makes sure that no one oversteps the boundaries and will do so until my contract is complete._

 _Contract…? What do you mean?_

No reply…

 _Peverell? Peverell? What kind of contract?_

Still no reply...

 _Damn…_

The magic spawning across the entire castle stabilized for a moment, as the bridge turned completely solid. Grindelwald stepped in, as Harry and Dumbledore swiftly followed. He could feel the ambient magics in the very fabric of the castle which screamed out anything but natural. They were spatial and chronomantic magics, not unlike the ones used in time turners.

 _A huge, sprawling castle that jumps across time…_

He crossed the huge bridge, walking behind the other two men as they walked forward, and the huge silvery door opened majestically, almost as if in recognition of their entrance. The door was adorned with a serpentine knob, reminding him of the Black Manor as he stepped in.

* * *

Inside was the largest chamber he had ever seen. The entire Hall was approximately twice that of the Hogwarts Great Hall and together with the ornate decorations all over the place, it did look like he had actually entered into some kind of cult-meeting.

 _You are in the altar of the oldest cult in existence, boy._

And there it was, his answer. He looked around. In one way, the Hall was strangely reminiscent of the Chamber of Secrets, what with the way the entire Hall was adorned with snake effigies, only that this time, they were not basilisks but runspoors. The three headed snakes looked livelier than possible and their beady eyes seemed to record and observe every minuscule movement in the room. He looked down on the floor and found himself staring into a humongous drawing of an Ouroboros… Wait, what was an Ouroborus?

 _The runic representation of immortality. The pinnacle of all runes in Necromancy. The Ouroboros._

 _Right._

 _Look above._

Harry looked up, and just like on the floor, was an identical drawing of a Ouroboros ostensibly similar to the one on the floor.

"As above, so below."

The sudden voice distracted Harry as he looked towards his left instantly. Standing in the shadows, was a hooded man wearing a deep gray robe. On closer look, an Ouroborus could be seen engraved all over the cloak's frontage.

"Excuse me?" Harry returned.

"As above, so below." The man repeated. "You were wondering about the ostensible similarity between the two drawings of the great snake. It is something we necromancers study here, the path of illumination across the multiple worlds."

"And Ouroboros helps you in that?"

The man smiled. "Ouroboros is infinity itself. We travel in infinity."

Ignoring the man's mystic remark, Harry cleared his throat. "I'm-"

"Harry Potter, _for the moment_. We _know_."

Harry narrowed his eyes. Could this man mean that he knew about-?

 _Whatever you do, do not lie to this man._

Harry felt surprised at the sudden way in which Ignotus had warned him. The bloodlust-crazy warlord never did that previously.

 _Heed my warning, boy. Steer clear of this man, and whatever you do, never, never lie to him._

 _Okay._

For some reason, the man smiled. Harry found it relatively scary. The man glanced at the other two occupants of the room. "Albus Dumbledore. Transfiguration-Master. Welcome to Castle Negrul."

Dumbledore nodded hesitantly. "Thank you for having us."

The man turned to look towards Gellert, and instantly the older man fell down and screamed in agony. The man did not even direct any amount of magical power but just stared at him. It was not Legilimency, whatever the man was doing, but it sure was incredibly deadly if it made Gellert Grindelwald of all people fall down and cry like a lost puppy.

"Gellert Grindelwald." The man replied finally. "The _betrayer_ returns home at last. What did you think would happen when we discovered that you misused the knowledge we taught you to locate the Deathstick and become an aide to _its destiny_?"

Gellert screamed on.

"How many times had I mentioned that it was a futile attempt to try and gain its allegiance? That we necromancers should stay away from the artifacts of the Dead?"

If not for the way Grindelwald was whelping in agony, Harry would have thought that the man was just chiding him, what with the way his voice had a sort of… _soothing_ tone in them.

"I had…taken… _control_ over it." Gellert tried to reply, amidst his cries full of agony.

"You. Ignorant. Wizard. Do you still refuse to see the truth? If you held control over it, how could anyone else come and defeat you? So powerful, so learned, and yet… so close-minded. You are an insult on Necromancers, Gellert Grindelwald. May _Seth_ _come_ after you."

Gellert widened his eyes as he prostrated instantly, despite the raging pain in his nerves. "No-No-No-No-NOOOOOH! Anything but that! Anything but that!" He prayed.

"My word is my bond, Gellert." The man replied calmly. "As have I said, so mote shall it be. _Seth_ shall come after you and drag your soul into the netherworld. Begone!" Instantly, a portal opened just beneath where Gellert had prostrated as it sucked him within, vanishing him out of existence.

"Wha- what _happened_ to him?" Dumbledore replied. Harry was simply staring at the floor with shock. No one could ever have guessed that the floor had just swallowed a man whole.

"I threw him out of Negrul." The man replied calmly. "And now, one of you has to decide. Gellert had only one task left to him, and that was to bring the two of you here. However, Negrul doesn't accommodate two passengers, so one of you will have to depart too."

"Negrul?" Dumbledore queried.

Almost as if in answer, the humongous Ouroborus let out a feral hissing sound.

"That is _Negrul_. The _spirit_ of the castle." The man replied. "Choose, Albus of Dumbledore, choose between yourself and young Harry Potter here. One shall stay, and one shall leave. Who shall it be?"

Harry almost sighed. He knew whom the old man would choose. He would choose himself.

"Harry."

Harry shot a look of surprise at him. Albus looked resigned. "Harry Potter shall stay, and I shall return. I had my chance to privileged information before, and I took the wrong decisions. Let it be his chance, this time. Besides, something tells me that in not choosing myself, I have made the best choice."

"Wise words, Albus of Dumbledore." The man answered.

"But our quest," Dumbledore pressed, "will we get the answers for which we came?"

"Yes." The man replied back. "You have my word. The betrayer did the last thing that he was supposed to do, and now, destiny will run its course."

Dumbledore nodded. Turning towards Harry, he nodded. "I will see you back down there."

Harry nodded back hesitantly.

"Very well," the man uttered, as his eyes glowed _green_ as another portal opened, sucking Dumbledore deep within it, and soon, he had disappeared from sight. The man turned towards Harry and for the first time, looked into his eyes.

"So, _Peverell,_ we meet at last."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore found himself standing in front of his ex-best friend and former nemesis, Gellert Grindelwald, once again. The portal had stranded both of them back into the midst of the great Sahara Desert, and found themselves literally in the middle of nowhere. Wherever he looked, he could only see sand and sand. There was no chance of apparation since it would not be possible to apparate over such a large distance. The only chance was to portkey.

"Old Friend," Gellert replied, "could you make me a portkey? I kept my word, after all."

"Why couldn't you make yours?" Albus questioned. It felt odd, talking to each other like that after all of that had happened.

"Because I cannot afford to use it here. I need to hide, for _he_ will come hunting and smelling behind me. _Please?"_ He begged. It was so uncharacteristic of the powerful dark lord Albus knew.

"Who is Seth?" Dumbledore questioned and Grindelwald winced.

"DO NOT UTTER HIS NAME!" The man yelled. "Please, I beg you. Make me a portkey and send me away. I only have… _minutes_."

Dumbledore picked up a stone and instantly created a portkey with a wave of his wand, and held it in his finger.

"Who is S—he?"

Gellert almost winced. "He is the _hunter_. The guardian of the netherworld- a giant Cerberus who comes for every necromancer when _his bane_ has come. Please, get me the portkey and let me go. I _beg_ you, Albus."

Albus nodded and handed the portkey to him. Gellert muttered something about gratitude before the portkey popped him away, leaving him alone amidst the sandy desert.

"I suppose I should now portkey myself back. Sirius would be worried." He briefly wondered if he should wait for Harry but then thought better. After all, Harry knew how to portkey himself back to Britain. Worse comes to worst, he had the red scarf that could portkey him back to the Guild if necessary. Deciding it was useless to stay any longer, Albus waved his wand to create another portkey which popped him away.

* * *

 _He knows?_

 _Remember… no matter what he does, do not lie to him._

"I suppose your _friend_ has warned yourself against me?" The man replied cheerily. "It is almost a disadvantage that Castle Negrul has such limitations over its entrance, otherwise I suppose we would meet much earlier. Then again, everything has a reason, isn't it _Peverell?"_

"Why do you call me Peverell?" Harry refuted. "I am Harry. Harry Potter."

"Right. Harry Potter. And what about the one who resides inside you?" The man challenged.

"We are different. He has his identity. I have mine. We might share bodies but-"

"Are one soul. Do you refute that, Harry Potter? Or do you, the mighty warlord Ignotus Peverell?"

 _How does he know about me?_

"Really, Ignotus? That is… quite pedestrian. Castle Negrul, floats in _time_. Surely you would consider _that_ before jumping to conclusions?"

Ignotus stayed silent. Harry wondered how the man- whoever he was, could hear what Ignotus was speaking inside his mind. Surely it was not possible to do that via Legilimency?

"This is not the crude arte of Legilimency, Peverell. For future consideration, I would advise you to simply talk louder. Makes it a better conversation if I am not the only one speaking."

Harry stared at him. The man smiled back.

Harry looked around. The entire Hall reeked of power and ambient magics, but he could not see anyone else beside the man in front. "Where are the other people?"

"They will come when needed. Right now, _your reality_ doesn't need their presence, and so they are not here."

 _And my reality requires your presence?_

The man smirked. "Of course. I am the most real thing you have ever met, Peverell. In fact, you and I have a history that goes long back into the past and deep into the future."

 _That is not possible. The boatman's reality is different from the mortal world. I have ferried the souls into the netherworld and I have done my job as a hunter. I have only heard of you, High Priest of Negrul. I have never met you._

The man smiled. "True, Ignotus Peverell, Master of the Hallows knew me. However, _you are not him._ You are just a _fraction_ that he branched out of himself before he settled for _his_ fate. It is obvious you do not know, because otherwise, you would not have spent every waking moment wondering how the self-proclaimed _Master of Death_ could have died to have _reborn_ into the world as Harry Potter."

 _And you do?_

The man's lips twisted into a smile, as the hood lifted off from his head, revealing the white hair, the pale pointed face and the green eyes, with controlled power gushing through them. "Of course I do, after all, _I_ was the one that killed you."


	39. Chapter 39 :Answers

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _The man smiled. "True, Ignotus Peverell, Master of the Hallows knew me. However, you are not him. You are just a fraction that he branched out of himself before he settled for his fate. It is obvious you do not know, because otherwise, you would not have spent every waking moment wondering how the self-proclaimed Master of Death could have died to have reborn into the world as Harry Potter."_

 _And you do?_

 _The man's lips twisted into a smile, as the hood lifted off from his head, revealing the white hair, the pale pointed face and the green eyes, with controlled power gushing through them. "Of course I do, after all, I was the one that killed you."_

* * *

There are moments when one is shocked so beyond reason and control, that their eyes just stay open, blank like an open window, allowing anyone and everyone to look through them into the darkness of their souls. No words come to the throat, since the mind is both thoughtless and yet is filled with a thousand questions at the same time.

"You…" Harry croaked, "—killed me? I-I mean, the _real_ Ignotus Peverell?"

The man smiled. "Yes."

"And… why?"

"That," the man sighed, "is one long story. Not something the both of us have time. For now, there are _greater_ things at hand."

 _How did you kill me? You have to answer. Why did you call me a fraction of the real Ignotus? I am Ignotus._

The High Priest laughed. "To think that the Master of the Hallows had such an undying streak of ego." He snorted again, before the calmness magically forced itself into his face. "You are a fool, _barbarian_ , to consider yourself as whole. The ritual of the Naga-people, yes that's right, they are known as the Naga-people or the _Nagas,_ should have, for all intents and purposes, fused the two of you back into the _real_ Ignotus Peverell, along with awakening your ancient powers back. However, the big bad barbarian, the blood-thirsty warlord in you, hated Harry Potter so much, that he _refused to believe_ that they are one and the same."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

" _As above, so below_." The High Priest chanted again. "That which is above is the same as that which is below...Macro cosmos is the same as micro cosmos. The universe is the same as God, God is the same as man, man is the same as the cell, the cell is the same as the atom, the atom is the same as...and so on, ad infinitum."

The man smiled. "What that prophesizes is the duality of the universe. Heaven and Hell. Light and Dark. Truth and Lie. Sadness and happiness. Rage and tranquility…do you understand?"

Harry nodded.

"Before the _real_ Ignotus Peverell died at my hands, he cast aside a part of his soul into his wand-" he raised his hand to stop Harry from interrupting, "—not a horcrux, there are many methods to cast aside a part of one's soul-but I digress, yes, he cast aside a part of his soul into his wand, and in doing so, gave away all of his powers, his knowledge and his _winning barbarian part of his personality_ into his wand. The rest of him, the one with pure magic, the one filled with emotions and compassion, faced his death at my hands. _I_ was the one who delivered him _salvation_ so that he should be free from his duties until it was Time to rise again."

"You mean-"

The man smiled. "You are not just _fragments_ of Ignotus's soul. You are two components, two extremes. While the soul shard preserved in the wand holds his knowledge and his deadly skill, he lacks in magical power. Now you on the other hand, hold no skill, but pack all of his raw magical power- power which I am sure you have felt so many times at your fingertips."

Harry just stared.

"While Ignotus here is filled with rage and is the epitome of negativity, as can be observed from the way he raged though Nurmengard- you on the other hand, are opposite, filled with compassion, despite the evils done to you. However, both of you were blending quite well with each other ever since you two were joined back, but Ignotus here, has hated being part of a compassionate soul and hence, has been resisting you all this time. The Naga ritual, had he agreed to be one with you, would have merged both of you perfectly into the real Ignotus Peverell, the _true_ Master of the Hallows. However, this barbarian over here just _had_ to deny and resist the ritual, and thus the ritual increased your extreme behaviors. I am sure you will agree that ever since the ritual, you Harry have become much more compassionate and loving; while Ignotus has become more blood-thirsty, as is his behavior?"

Harry just stared back, completely at awe as the man divulged him truths he had no idea about. Ignotus too, was deathly silent.

"Is… that the reason why I have been making emotional choices instead of my original idea of staying reclusive and becoming the best damned wizard I could be?" Harry asked.

The High Priest laughed. "The best damned wizard? Harry, Harry, Harry- the powers you have been born with are akin to those of Gods. There are worlds greater than the mortal world. There are all sorts of nightmarish creatures, demons and evils the likes of which make your Lord Voldemort seem a little more than an annoying kitten, but those powers have their own concerns, their own issues, and their own battles. Surely you did not think that your _only_ job here is to kill Voldemort?"

Harry did not answer.

The man smiled. "You _cannot_ stay reclusive in this world. Not you, certainly. You are a Warmage and war is your destiny. Voldemort is only the _first_ stepping stone, though in _no_ way an easy one. If you _can_ destroy him and his abominations, you will face the next challenge. _Death's hunter_ cannot be a recluse; _his life is strife itself."_

Harry considered his words. "Is… is there any way in which I and Ignotus could… you know, overcome our extremities and become the… well, the real Ignotus Peverell? I am much more… compassionate towards things, and he is more well… _dark-lordish_ to fight my fights, and with Voldemort at the coast, I am not sure if this is a good thing. At least, if I were Harry like I was, and Ignotus a wise, knowledge-reservoir, there was a chance but now?"

The high-priest looked solemn. "Unfortunately, there is no way in the mortal world that can undo the effects of the ritual." He paused, "You will have to _worm your own way out_."

Harry raised his eyebrows, trying to understand the meaning of the cryptic statement. Knowing that nothing was to be gained from what seemed like a futile exercise, he turned towards the other topic at hand.

"The _horcruxes_... the reason we came here." He uttered.

"Right." The High Priest replied. His manner becoming way more formal than previously. "You have approached Castle Negrul with the aid of a Necromancer himself, in quest for an answer. State your question, and I will try my best to aide you in return."

"How many horcruxes can be created by a wizard? The _maximum_ number that is."

The High-Priest smirked. "Seven. You can create a _maximum_ of seven horcruxes, and along with your own remaining soul, that makes it eight- the rune of infinity. So if you were searching for a literal answer, you are looking at the number seven. If you are talking necromancy, there might just be _infinite_ horcruxes out there, all belonging to Voldemort in some form."

" _Infinite_ …. Number of horcruxes?" Harry stuttered.

"Magically, yes." The man replied. "If Voldemort did create seven horcruxes, the resultant effect might just have transmitted itself across space and time, into different worlds and universes. However, the first thing you would need to do would be to acquire the horcruxes, and destroy them. _Completely._ "

"Right. Is there _something_ that you could aid us in finding them out?"

The high priest smiled. "We are in Negrul. We are floating in time. There are infinite number of ways in which I could aid you. I could reveal the true identities of the horcruxes, I could show you the future, or I could just tell you the solutions of your future problems and the pitfalls to avoid."

Harry looked at him with a steadfast expression.

"But," the man smirked, "Should you peer down into the time stream, you become part of Negrul and thus will have to become a traveler for eternity. You will only be able to stay at one place for a maximum of three minutes. I am not sure if _you_ would want to do that."

 _In short, NO, I cannot help you. What's with these people and their cryptic answers?_

"Then again, I suppose I need to eat my words. There is one aide I can give you." The man raised his hand, palm open as he muttered something obscure. A flash of a multitude of colors materialized, leaving behind something that closely reminded Harry of a pendant.

"This is for you." He offered.

Harry took it gingerly and observed it. The entire thing was made of gold with rubies and emeralds studded on it. The pendant looked like some kind of lock, what with the way the front was blocked by all kinds of intricately carved gold exoskeleton. It almost looked like the inner cavity was there to hold something special inside it.

"Thanks." Harry muttered awkwardly, unsure how it would help him.

"You will know the reason when you _acquire it_."

"Right." Harry muttered, "I suppose I should leave now."

The man nodded. Harry smiled hesitantly.

"Thank you for your help, though…" he hesitated, "I don't know your name."

The High Priest smiled. "Maybe that is a conversation for another time, _Peverell."_

* * *

"And that is all that happened." Dumbledore finished his fascinating tale, as Sirius looked at him, half in awe and half in anger. The moment he had finished, Sirius stood up and barked, "You, old coot, why did you _leave_ Harry alone in there? You could have chosen to be there yourself and let Harry return back."

"I could," Albus replied, "but something told me that there was a reason behind Harry's being there; reason more important than just the quest for the number of horcruxes. Something tells me that I made the right decision and Harry will be back soon."

"You would be right." Both of them turned towards the doorway as Harry Potter entered through the door. "I am back."

"Harry!" Sirius yelled, as he shot up from the chair and hugged his godson, who seemed to be in some deep thought.

"Anything wrong?" He asked.

"No, it's nothing. Just something I discussed with the... well the Necromancer."

"Anything you would want to share?" Dumbledore offered.

"Uh, later?" Harry offered. He had still to come up with some kind of finality regarding his thoughts and decisions. He and Ignotus needed a long and much-desired talk.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Professor, I want to meditate a little. Could I- you know, spend some time alone? I need some time to myself."

"You sure?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded. "I am going to my room. I will- uh, see you later."

"Sure." Sirius offered.

* * *

 _What did you decide?_

 _What's there to decide anyway? You are an emotional fool, and I am a battle-hardened warrior. Just leave me to be in charge when fighting and I will let you be in charge when you are busy fostering and nursing your mate._

Harry rolled his eyes.

 _I have seen what you do when you get in control. You killed the rest of the prisoners and caused widespread destruction. You promised me…_

 _I kept my word. I did not kill any guard by myself except those who attacked me. It is not my fault that they were useless against the wyverns and the Lethifolds. I did tell you that the same wouldn't apply to the prisoners. They committed sin, and they got the fruit. Judgement complete._

 _But-_

 _There are no buts, Potter. War is not about who is Right, but who is left. It's not just the plethora of spells, it's not about power, it is about having the spine to snuff your enemies before they snuff you first._

 _You are wrong._

 _And you are an emotional fool. Just as I said, leave the battle to me, and we will have no issues. Let Harry Potter be the savior, and let Ignotus Peverell be the destroyer._

 _But the High Priest said that Ignotus was a mixture of us, don't you think that-_

 _The old man can bugger himself. He did say that there is no way in the mortal world to reverse the effects of the ritual, so we will have to work with what we have at hand. I will begin teaching you things so that you do not die when we do not have the chance to shift, and you will stop nagging me about being the bloodthirsty warlord that I am. Do you agree?_

Harry considered it.

 _Very well._

 _Now, with my knowledge, you do not need the Transfiguration Guild, at least not for the moment. I will teach you magics you never knew existed. Learn it, and use it to destroy your enemies. Our enemies. Let me out and I will snuff them before they raise their head. Without hesitation. If it's any help, it will be me to crushes them mercilessly, not the great and compassionate Harry Potter._

 _The others won't see it that way._

 _(Laugh) Sometimes you need to break the rules to serve the greater good. You yourself have been a prime example of it._

Harry did not refute back.

* * *

"Where is Harry? He said that he would-" Daphne asked, as Astoria slowly fed her some nutrient potion.

Astoria looked at her and smiled, "He said he is off to- doing whatever it was he said he needed to do. She lifted the mug in her hands, and tried to feed her elder sister a little hot chocolate. Daphne had always had a sweet tooth. The other girl greedily drank from the mug, licking her lips.

"Yum!" She licked her lips. "it feels like ages since I have tasted it." She drank some more. "Besides, I cannot let anyone see me like this. My reputation would be in tatters."

Astoria giggled at her sister's antics.

"I see that Miss Greengrass is back to her normal super-Slytherin self."

Daphne and Astoria looked up to find Harry standing by the doorway. "Harry!" She whispered, as said person walked up to her and kissed her in her forehead. For some reason, it felt oddly satisfying and yet left her wanting for more.

"Where had you been?"

"Well, Dumbledore and I-" Harry hesitated for a moment, "We were off doing some... _stuff_ that will help us against Voldemort."

"Oh."

"Yeah," He replied back, "-how are you feeling?"

Daphne smiled. "I am good. It's a little different, but my head feels a lot clearer than how it was. I am really sorry for-"

"Daphne, what have I told you about being sorry? It was not your fault. The locket… it was way more powerful."

"But… but-" she hesitated.

"What?"

Daphne looked away. "You taught me so much, and despite all of that, I failed the one time when it mattered." She looked back at him, "What does that make me?"

Harry cupped her face. "That makes you human. This time, we train harder, and make sure that the next time something attacks you, you defeat it and hand its arse over."

"But you will be going away."

"Not really." Harry answered, surprising her. "I am going to stay for a while, at least until Voldemort is in hiding. I have a few things to do, and besides, I can start my formal training from June."

"Oh." Daphne returned.

"And I think that since you are not going to go big-bad-dark lady on me, I believe it will be fun."

Daphne laughed. "I am really sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to say all those things which I said. I don't hate you or anything like that."

"Good to know." Harry replied, "it wouldn't make us a good couple if we were to stay together and hate each other." He winked, "Just imagine how much less enjoyable would the snogging be…"

"Okay lovebirds, get a room." Tracey's voice came from behind. Astoria just giggled and Daphne blushed. Harry turned back to see her enter through the doorway.

"We have a room. _You_ are the one who is trespassing." Harry countered, as Tracey maturely stuck her tongue out, inciting Astoria to snort out loudly.

"Did you finish doing whatever it was?" She asked.

Harry nodded.

"Hang on, did you hear about the Nurmengard breakout? It was all over the news." Astoria gushed. "They said the intruder disguised himself as Dumbledore when he tried to break into the prison."

"I might have heard a little bit," Harry replied offhandedly. If Daphne noticed anything, she did not comment. Harry turned to look at her. "Your new room is going to be the one in which we train. That way, you will be undisturbed from any external nuisances."

"Malfoy?" Daphne urged.

"Well, no one knows what the ferret might do. Sometimes I think I should just beat him soundly and throw him at Saint Mungo's." Harry replied, but Daphne could sense that he wasn't serious.

"I would spend money to get first-seats." Tracey returned.

* * *

"Sirius. There is something I want to talk about." Harry turned to Dumbledore, "Professor, I would like your input in it as well."

"Go ahead, Harry." Dumbledore replied. Sirius just nodded.

"I do not want to fight this oncoming war passively. We have seen what has happened by passive reaction in the previous war. It took a… miracle to end the war, or else Voldemort would have won. The previous time, he had to gather followers and grow stronger, but this time, he already has everything at hand and now after his resurrection, his followers likely feel invincible."

"I agree with what you are saying, Harry, but are you intending what I think you are intending?"

Harry looked solemn. "I don't want to keep this shroud of deception hanging over Magical Britain any longer. Voldemort is effectively keeping himself in hiding, while on the other hand, he is steadily magnifying his army. You know it well that sooner or later, he will come up front and then, Magical Britain won't stand a chance."

"Harry," Sirius interrupted, "Fudge will not believe it."

"To hell with that paper-pushing moron," Harry replied with indignation, "I say we take the fight to them. They killed Daphne's Dad. Voldemort's horcrux almost killed my girlfriend, not to mention the countless horrors Voldemort and his men inflicted on us in the previous war. I say it's time we give them a taste of their own medicine."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "What do you want me to do about it?" He paused, "|if you are asking me to apparate to the Death eater's residences, and kill them, then I am afraid we don't agree on that proposition. As it is, I am quite displeased with the way things turned out at Nurmengard."

Harry felt Ignotus try to shift and come on top, the other man's rage filling him insides. "This is war, professor. And somebody once said to me, war is not about who is right, but who is left. Those men, they were murderers and prisoners, and by any chance, if Voldemort freed them, they would happily commit atrocities all over again."

Dumbledore did not reply.

"What is it that you are asking, Harry?" Sirius asked.

"Run interference. If they sit, stand. Lucius Malfoy and the Selwyns hold over the Dark and the Dark-neutrals. Professor Dumbledore holds power over the Light faction, and you over the neutrals. Stop them from making any changes that might help Voldemort gain strength." He looked at Dumbledore. "I will do the dirty work, Professor."

"Harry-"

"Someone has to do it, professor. If the bad Auror doesn't do his duty, how will the good one do his?"

Dumbledore looked at him. "Why-why Harry? What is your motivation? Is it vengeance over what happened to Miss Greengrass and her family?"

"No, professor. I am not doing it because of petty vengeance. I am doing it, because it is _necessary."_

"I do not agree with you, my boy."

"You don't. You don't have to agree with me, you don't have to like me, but you have to work with me to end this parasite for now and forever." He stood up from the chair, banging his palms on the table. "Now, are you going to help do this or not?"

Dumbledore sighed. "What is your plan?"

Harry grinned.


	40. Chapter 40 : Necromancy

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _"No, professor. I am not doing it because of petty vengeance. I am doing it, because it is necessary."_

 _"I do not agree with you, my boy."_

 _"You don't. You don't have to agree with me, you don't have to like me, but you have to work with me to end this parasite for now and forever." He stood up from the chair, banging his palms on the table. "Now, are you going to help do this or not?"_

 _Dumbledore sighed. "What is your plan?"_

* * *

 **Two weeks later…**

"CRUCIO!"

Rudolphus Lestrange lay on the floor, struggling in pain as the Cruciatus burnt his nerves raw, sending him into a level of agony that he had not experienced over a decade. The funny thing was, the person who was cruciating him was his own wife, who was cackling madly, while the dark lord simply sat on his throne, a worried expression etched on his face.

"Enough Bella!" The dark lord ordered. Bellatrix turned towards her lord and looked at him with puppy-dog eyes, "a little more, my Master? Perhaps for luck?"

The dark lord simply smirked. "Not now, Bella. We need him. If he behaves rudely again, you have my permission to kill him."

Bellatrix licked her lips savagely as she rendered him incapacitated, stopping the Cruciatus as Rudolphus lay on the floor. Placing her wand back, she walked up, only to sit beside her Lord.

"Seven deaths! Seven of my precious men dead! Who is to be held responsible for this?"

Everyone looked around. In the past two weeks, someone had been assassinating senior members of the dark lord's council. While they were not exactly the inner circle, but they were still, pretty high up on the list. It seemed that someone held a lot of rage against the death eaters, and was assassinating each and every one of them in diabolical fashion.

Thomas Avery, Caractacus Flint and his son Marcus, and Leonard Mulciber. Chopped into pieces using severing curses. The ironic fact was that Avery and Flint were notorious for killing people using severing curses in the first war.

Walden Mcnair, the executioner for magical creatures at the Ministry. Beheaded inside his own room.

Thomas Jugson, Vincent Crabbe Senior and Anthony Fischer- burned alive. Crabbe Senior, despite being a pathetic failure at other magics, had an astonishing capability to control Fiendfyre. Jugson and Fischer were his closest friends.

Disturbingly poetic deaths.

The strange thing was, none of the people were out in any vulnerable situations. The wards did not even register any kind of activity, almost as if someone had miraculously either deactivated them before the attack and erected them later….

Or, the assassin was innately unaffected by wards.

The dark lord couldn't decide which was more disturbing. The fact about the wards reminded him about the recent attack on Nurmengard which had killed off the prisoners of the entire second floor, including the dark lord Grindelwald. It was a misfortune. He had planned an attack on Nurmengard after Phase 2 was successful- an army of the most dangerous murderers of Magical Europe sounded very formidable. However, it seemed as if someone had seen it coming, and destroyed that chance as well. It was almost lucky that the treaty with the vampires had been completed before Avery's unfortunate death. Given how things were going, he could almost sense that Greyback could be attacked any moment. Perhaps he should provide some security to the werewolf-after all, the wolf would make sure that the werewolves would join him.

 _Who could it be? It couldn't be Albus Dumbledore; he is too 'Light' for this. It couldn't be Sirius Black. He simply lacked the power and the skill. Harry Potter wasn't here. He was away at the Transfiguration Master's Guild. Besides, the boy wasn't someone who could kill so cruelly._

 _Who could it be?_

The wards of the ancient manor flared. Someone had stepped inside his property. Someone magical. Could it be-

He could hear the steps as they came closer to his throne. In the darkness, the person wasn't visible to his eyes, but his magical senses told him that whoever it was, the person was extraordinarily powerful, almost as much as he was. His fingers slowly snaked towards his faithful yew wand.

"Lord Voldemort." The man replied. He had a frail form, but that did nothing to hide the roaring magical power that was rolling off him. "We meet at last."

"Who are you?" The dark lord asked slowly.

"You are sitting on _my throne_ … and you are asking _me_ , _who am I?"_

The dark lord's eyes widened as the man walked into the Light, his face distinctly visible as the dark lord let out his surprise in the form of a whisper. "Gellert… Grindelwald?"

* * *

 **Two hours later…**

Tom Riddle had never thought that life could have gotten so complex. It had been much more simple before Grindelwald, who was supposed to be dead, but had turned out to be very much alive and kicking, had come in knocking for him and presented him a most surprising proposition. One that both scared him and made him exhilarated at the same time.

"Let me get things straight." The dark lord mused, as the ex-dark lord sat on a transfigured chair in front of him. "You were broken out of prison after over fifty years by someone whom you refuse to name-"

"I am sworn to secrecy on my _existence_." Gellert snapped.

"Right, so you refuse to name the intruder on various reasons, and now you are here to offer your aid in magic to me, in return of a most unusual request." He stared at the ex-dark lord in the eye. "A _horcrux,_ of my own, chained to you by necromancy."

"Yes."

"While I would like to ask you how you knew about my… _artifacts,_ but I find-"

"Oh shut up Riddle," Gellert snapped. "Don't try to go all dark lord-ish on me. I am a necromancer, and for all your knowledge, you are but a puny kid in front of me when it comes to necromancy. There is only one way by which you could resurrect yourself after getting blown off to pieces by a little toddler-" he ignored the red in Voldemort's eyes- "—and are now standing in front of me in a body that is _clearly_ a product of a _resurrection_ ritual."

The dark lord held his control over his rising anger. "And why _exactly_ would you need a horcrux chained to you?"

Gellert sneered. "None of your business."

"How about you answer the question or I flay you alive?" Voldemort threatened.

Gellert sneered. "Yes, I suspected that you would. But consider this, Tom Riddle, I am old, but I am powerful. It is possible that your forces might stand against me, and even defeat me, but will you and your forces go completely _unhurt_ by this? Given how I have heard about your followers getting snuffed right and left, are you in a position to lose more? Will all of your followers, some of whose families had pledged assistance to me, fight for you against me? What is to stop me from, say…. Burning this entire manor to ash and setting a necromantic curse upon all of you?"

Voldemort gnashed his teeth.

"Fine." He hissed. "Fine, though you have to admit that it is _my horcrux_ you are talking about. Surely, I deserve an answer?"

Gellert spat on the floor. Voldemort did not react.

"Something… someone is behind me. Searching and sniffing for me and my magic, wanting to drag my soul into Hell. To undo that, I need someone's horcrux deeply entrenched to me and my magic, enough to fool _the hunter_ from snuffing the life out of me."

"Who is this… hunter?"

Gellert looked at him with disdain. "We necromancers do not speak of his name. _Names have power, and should be used carefully."_

"What else can you tell me?"

"Nothing else. I can teach you necromancy beyond what you have managed to scrub out from worthless teachers during your quest for the dark arts. In return, you will treat me with proper respect and give me a horcrux for my needs."

"Let's just say, that _hypothetically_ , I refuse. What will you do?"

"Well… I can always go to Albus Dumbledore. We are old pals after all, and the old man knows a bit a little bit of necromancy and blood magic himself to be able to do something like that. If not him, then I could just go to the killer who is killing your men. Given how he is killing your followers in cold blood, I don't suppose making a horcrux would be too difficult for the person. Importantly, I would then become a _powerful enemy_ against your forces. Would you rather have me do that?"

Voldemort had to admit. The man had a point. Grindelwald had him choosing between a rock and a hard place.

"Very well," he returned with slight hesitation. "Tell me what you need."

* * *

The dark lord had kept his word. The next day, he had asked Lucius Malfoy to bring back the diary he had given him to guard and _value more than he valued his life._ Understandably, he was beyond enraged when he had found that the other man had used his precious horcrux for settling a deal against Arthur Weasley, something that had later caused commotion at the school by opening the Chamber of Secrets and petrifying students. All of that was good, except the fact that Harry Potter had found it and by some way, destroyed the diary. He wondered how since there were only two things that could have done so- one being Fiendfyre and the other being basilisk venom. The second-year wasn't powerful enough to conjure Fiendfyre while killing the humongous basilisk was a thing of fiction, and he refused to believe that the second year could have done it. The fact that Pettigrew had supported Malfoy's statement hadn't irked him any less. Malfoy had had to suffer his personal Cruciatus over a prolonged length of time, much to Bella's enjoyment. The fact that Malfoy had not yet been able to assassinate Black did not help matters either.

The next thing he had done was to go for the locket which he had placed in the lake. Lucius Malfoy had to accompany him unwillingly, and had been force-fed the elixir of nightmares- a potion which caused the drinker to be tormented by his worst nightmares, and that had Lucius crying like a baby as he wept about how _his magic was stolen by muggles,_ much to the dark lord's amusement. Said amusement had vaporized the moment he had picked up the locket and opened it, and found the little parchment inside it. The one that proclaimed something that had him almost destroying the entire cavern into pieces.

 _ **To the Dark Lord**_

 _ **I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.**_

 _ **R.A.B.**_

"FIENDFYRE!" The dark lord yelled, as massive bursts of cursed fire shot out of his wand, pushing down into the black waters which were actually some kind of potion very similar to the draught of living death, obliterating the hundreds of inferi sunk beneath them. The immense heat and light made the dark interiors shine like the sun, and between them, stood Lord Voldemort, his red eyes burning with frightening intensity and vengeance.

* * *

Regulus Black knew about his horcruxes. Regulus Black had taken his horcrux away, and in all possibility, now Sirius Black might know about them. He had to check them all. He had flown all over to the Gaunt Shack, and had been elated to learn that it was still safe. The same was true for the Cup he had kept in Bellatrix's Vault. There was no way to check up on the one he had stored inside the castle, but he hoped that it would be safe. Finally, there was Nagini, who would need to be protected more than ever. Knowing that the ring carried an unbreakable curse on it, he had decided to let it stay inside the shack while he had ordered Bellatrix to bring the Cup of Hufflepuff back from her vault. It would have to be a stealth mission, but thankfully the goblins held neutral ground in regards to wizard dealings and possessions.

The entire thing had gone without a hitch, especially since Malfoy was still alive and kicking. He had threatened to kill the man if he failed in the task this time. Lucius had stuttered and stammered- the effects of the elixir of nightmares had apparently done a number on the man, especially considering the hours he had spent writhing in agony under the Cruciatus curse.

"You now have what you wanted. It is now up to you to bind it to yourself."

Grindelwald looked at him with an amused expression. For someone who claimed to be the worst dark lord of history, Lord Voldemort was an amateur in many branches of obscure magics. His only advantage was his affinity to dark curses and his immense power, something that reminded him of Harry Potter. Then again, Voldemort had built a synthetic ritual-based body for himself, granting him extreme amounts of self-regeneration capabilities, which was enough to turn the tide of battle.

 _Though, I don't truly know what other powers Potter might be hiding. It would have been amusing if I had been able to share with Riddle about the plethora of powers that Potter wielded, along with the deadly magic he had at his command. Hopefully I will get front seats when Riddle gets to fight Potter finally, and considering the boy's resourcefulness, that day is going to be sooner than Riddle can anticipate._

He held up the _Cup of Hufflepuff_ , rumored to have substantial healing powers in it. It was almost an insult that such a reverential item had been converted to such a foul abomination. In another life, he might have squeezed Riddle's throat out of anger that he had trashed such valuable artifacts and polluted them in such fashion. However, at this moment he needed his help, and self-preservation was more important than some ancient artifact, no matter how powerful.

"I will need to procure a proper environment to perform the ritual, and I will need some things." He stated.

"I will order Wormtail to get them for you." Voldemort answered. "Now, it is your turn to keep your word."

"Very well." Gellert sighed. "what do you want to know about?"

Lord Voldemort told him, and Gellert Grindelwald widened his eyebrows in shock. He only nodded silently as Lord Voldemort explained to him what exactly he required of him. Finally, he agreed to teach him what he _wanted_ though he severely _warned_ him that he would, _in no way participate_ in the ritual, while in his own mind, there was one thought that kept on circulating, despite his powerful Occlumency shields.

 _Delusions of a lunatic._

* * *

"Let me be honest here, Voldemort." Gellert explained, "the ritual you are planning to do requires the practitioner to be completely honest with himself. And unfortunately, you are not such a person."

Tom titled his head as he gazed at the other man curiously.

"You have power, that much is correct, but power is not the only thing that matters. It is important that you understand this. You call yourself Voldemort, though at heart, you are Tom Marvolo Riddle. This form of... _hypocrisy_ is exactly what prevents you from becoming the most powerful man you could become."

"There are no men like me." The dark lord challenged.

"There are always men like you." Gellert replied back. "Your soul is mutilated beyond repair using the darkest of magics, and here you are wanting to go further down the lane. I do not know what you have done previously in the field of ancient magics, but as far as evocation is considered, this dual form of yours will cause you to fail. Either you must be Voldemort forever, or Tom Riddle. You cannot be both."

"I am Lord Voldemort." The dark lord argued.

Gellert raised his hand. "Think again."

Voldemort did not reply.

"I have seen the fear in your eyes when I mentioned horcruxes in front of you. Evocation is an arte that can only be done by a God. _God is all powerful. God is barbarian. God doesn't take sides. God does not fear. God does not bleed._ " He paused, "If you fear, you cannot be a God. If you cannot be a God, _the powers that be_ shall _never_ answer your call."

"You intend to perform _evocation_ , which is essentially the temple of creation. If you evoke with the intent of nothing, then nothing is indeed what you will create. Understand this very well, and figure out what you truly need. Always remember, everything has a price. If the summoned entities are not happy with your offering, then _they will take what they wish_." He paused, staring into Voldemort's eyes.

"So tell me, Lord Voldemort, are you ready to lose _everything_ you love only to make your wish come true? If so, we will continue discussing over the ritual."

* * *

For the next three weeks, no one had heard a word from the dark lord. All that they knew was that he had hidden himself away with Grindelwald and was performing some kind of ritual. In fact, it was so silent that had it not been for the fact that he occasionally ordered his followers to fetch him strange substances, one might have thought that he was dead. There had been many more killings of the death eaters and the official count so far was over twenty, and yet, the dark lord seemed to be _completely_ disinterested. His followers had been ordered to go on with the respective tasks he had given them. Finally, on the twenty-third day since the ritual had begun, he walked out of the ritual room. The problem was, he was not alone.

Something very much akin to what seemed like a shadow levitated out alongside him. It was dark and malicious, and clung to the dark lord like a cloak all over him. Darkness was reeking all over him, magnifying his aura by multiple amounts. Gellert Grindelwald walked up behind him, slowly pacing towards the dark lord as he observed him.

"My lord?" Bellatrix offered.

The dark lord smiled. "The wait is over. It is time to bring war to them."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the second-last chapter of the first segment of Defiance. The next chapter will serve as the end of the first part, followed by an intermission as I will be taking a little time break before I begin with the next part of Defiance. I know this is a short chapter, but the last and final one will be rather epic and I hope i will have it written by the next two days. You might get some answers, and some more questions, but those will be answered in the second segment of Defiance. Hopefully you guys are liking this tale, and well, allow me to say how pleasing it has been to find the number of following, favorites, and reviews growing every single day.**

 **Thank you.**


	41. Chapter 41 : The dogs of war

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _For the next three weeks, no one had heard a word from the dark lord. All that they knew was that he had hidden himself away with Grindelwald and was performing some kind of ritual. In fact, it was so silent that had it not been for the fact that he occasionally ordered his followers to fetch him strange substances, one might have thought that he was dead. There had been many more killings of the death eaters and the official count so far was over twenty, and yet, the dark lord seemed to be completely disinterested. His followers had been ordered to go on with the respective tasks he had given them. Finally, on the twenty-third day since the ritual had begun, he walked out of the ritual room. The problem was, he was not alone._

 _Something very much akin to what seemed like a shadow levitated out alongside him. It was dark and malicious, and clung to the dark lord like a cloak all over him. Darkness was reeking all over him, magnifying his aura by multiple amounts. Gellert Grindelwald walked up behind him, slowly pacing towards the dark lord as he observed him._

 _"My lord?" Bellatrix offered._

 _The dark lord smiled. "The wait is over. It is time to bring war to them."_

* * *

The Dark forces gathered at Little Hangleton. Three hundred werewolves standing behind their leader Fenrir Greyback, fifty-two giants, a pack of around five hundred vampires under their leader Arnold Vatoksky, and around two hundred and eighty-five of his death eaters stood, surrounding their lord and Master, Lord Voldemort.

"My followers," Lord Voldemort spoke; his voice magically magnified, "today is the day I announce my return. We will show the Ministry of Magic, we will show Hogwarts and its esteemed protectors, we will show the world… that you might believe or not believe, you might attack or hide in cowardice, you might employ flukes to render me body-less, you might do anything, and everything, but… you _cannot,_ defeat GOD!" His voice roared at the end of his tirade, punctuating his new status to all in his sycophants.

A shiver of exhilaration ran down every death eater's spine as their Lord's aura expanded, forming a humongous dark pallor behind him. Every single person and dark creature could sense the darkness reeking from the man who had done the inevitable, achieved the impossible and even conquered Death… There was no way that the Ministry or the Light would be able to defeat The Dark Lord this time…

"It is time that everyone understands that the Dark God was never gone. It is time that they understand that I AM IMMORTAL!" Voldemort roared. Again, the creature raised his voice bellowing to all around him about his exalted status. Knowing he had once again gone beyond what anyone else would dare and had achieved immortality. Again.

Every single follower cheered wholeheartedly.

Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange walked up to him. "My Lord?" They asked expectantly.

"Is everything going to plan?" the Dark Lord inquired.

Bellatrix nodded excitedly, smiling with her cackling evil grin. She was always glad to serve her Lord.

"Very well. Initiate Phase One."

Bellatrix bowed and the two stepped back into the crowd. Lord Voldemort addressed his followers again… "Let us go and show these vermin, why I am known as the most feared man on the planet…." He hissed, as the followers waved their wands into the air and yelled…

"MORSMORDRE!"

* * *

 **DMLE Headquarters…**

"Director, there was a high amount of magic cast at the village of Little Hangleton. The amount of magic was too high for one single wizard. We believe-" Kingsley stopped midway as Amelia raised her hand. She stood up from her chair and walked up silently towards the window.

Kingsley continued, "Director, this level of magical propulsion could significantly be a threat to the Statute of Secrecy and I think we should-"

"I know, Kinglsey. I know what caused this."

"But... how?"

"Look into the sky."

There up in the heavens was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As they watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation. The entire evening sky seemed to be illuminated like some grisly neon sign.

The dark mark was floating in the sky.

* * *

 **Office of the Minister of Magic…**

"I seriously need to take a holiday, Percival." Cornelius Fudge muttered sadly, as he relaxed into his chair. "So much work, so many problems, it's been ages since I had officially taken a holiday."

Percy nodded automatically. Ever since Umbridge had been sent to Azkaban, he had become Cornelius Fudge's right-hand _Yes_ man, and that meant having to deal with the man's not so subtle tantrums.

"I wish Dolores were here, Percival. She was the right person to deal with these problems-so many murders, so many purebloods getting killed, and I am having to deal with it all. At least Dumbledore has understood that there is no way he can prove that You-know-who could ever be back… It was a big lie, after all…"

"Minister-"

"I know, Percival. Dumbledore tried to try get me out of my position but he had underestimated-"

"Minister-"

"Let me finish, Percival." Fudge commented with irritation. "Yes, after all, there is no way that You-know-who could ever be back. I mean, he is dead!"

"MINISTER-"

"WHAT?"

"Look."

Fudge looked in the direction Percy was pointing, and let out a miniature shriek as he witnessed the impossible. The humongous dark mark was floating in the sky.

"Minister-"

"Minister?"

"ye—es?" Fudge replied, still in shock.

"what are we going to do?"

"I- I need to think of—of something-I need to-" He got off and ran towards the fireplace throwing a fistful of Floo powder as he yelled- "DUMBLEDORE!"

* * *

 **Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts.**

"So it finally begins…" Dumbledore mused, as he gazed at the ominous sign floating in the sky. He closed his eyes and prepared himself. The previous war- he had stayed passive, but this time it will have to be different.

"Dumbledore-" One of the portraits yelled out.

"Yes Everard?"

"They have attacked Saint Mungo's. An army of vampires and werewolves are blasting the outer wards. The wards will go off any moment."

"Harry? Could you-"

"Right now." Harry answered, before opening the window and jumping out of it. The old man, shocked by his sudden action, stood up and ran back to the window, only to see him transform midway into a giant thestral which flew off towards Saint Mungo's.

"A _magical_ animagus? Will you _ever_ cease to amaze me, Harry?"

"DUMBLEDORE!" A mad, hysterical voice called out from the Floo as Cornelius Fudge's face became visible. "Dumbledore, what is going on? The Dark mark?"

"Voldemort, whom you all refused to believe to have returned, is attacking." Dumbledore replied as calmly as possible before he looked up at another portrait which was talking to him.

"Send reinforcements to Diagon Alley." He whipped his wand and fired off a phoenix Patronus. "Go to Sirius. Diagon Alley is under attack. The rest of the Order is approaching." Dumbledore ordered the message Patronus as he deliberately ignored the minister in his fire for the moment… or two.

"DUMBLEDORE!" Fudge tried but Dumbledore paid him no attention.

"Minerva, Filius, my office, now." He spoke into a little ball and in a flash, the respective teachers were there. "Death eaters and giants are attacking Hogsmeade. Seal the castle, and then join me there." He looked at Fawkes who squawked back in acknowledgement.

"DUMBLEDORE WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO-" Fudge tried for the last time but one stern look from the old man stopped him midway.

"Do what you always do, Cornelius. Hide your head in the sand and hope that the problem vanishes away on its own." Dumbledore barely spared him a glance as he worked his way around the office. He'd already said what needed to be done and in return had been ignored and vilified.

Cornelius turned red. "Look Dumbledore I am the Minister and I—WHELPPPP!" His face vanished as a crimson jet smashed into the Floo were Cornelius's head had just been.

"He is quite a nuisance." Albus confessed a faint look of a self-satisfied smirk etched on his face, much to Minerva's disbelief.

* * *

 **Saint Mungo's.**

The ancient wards surrounding the magical hospital were now almost beginning to crash, and could hold out to perhaps, only a couple more attacks before the wards shattered down completely. For some reason, the Floo seemed to malfunction and now there was no way to get the patients out of the place. Outside the hospital, a group of seven death eaters led by Bellatrix Lestrange, and another fifty dark creatures, comprising of vampires and half-turned werewolves were doing their best to undo the effect of the wards. The evil woman with the wild dark hair was consecutively firing dark curses, as the wards flared at the point of contact.

"Just one more..." She yelled, "One more joint attack at three, two-"

WHAM!

An enormous shockwave of magical energy radiated out, lifting her and the rest of the dark army and throwing them back by twenty feet. The army was soon back to its feet and roared in indignation. Bellatrix's hair was now flying around her head as if the very air was electrically charged. As the smoke cleared, they slowly glimpsed the dull outline of the one man who had done the folly to hinder their path.

"It seems we have a Hero on our side..." Bellatrix cackled, whipping her wand towards the stranger as she yelled, "CRUCIO!" Pouring all her hatred for Azkaban and everything Potter and the Light and Dumbledore and anything that represented them into the spell. Everything against her Lord and their cause. This was her chance to make a statement.

The unknown person sent back a pulse of magical energy that met her Cruciatus midway, causing a miniature explosion. The smoke cleared, as everyone looked in surprise at the man standing between them and Saint Mungo's. His long staff in hand, dressed like a proper war-mage, stood Harry James Potter.

"Aww, ickle Harry Potter wants to play?" Bellatrix mocked in a baby-like voice.

Harry smirked. "Not in the mood." He stated in a monologue tone.

Bellatrix snarled as she whipped her wand and threw out three successive Crucio's in quick succession, but Harry dodged each and every one of them as he waved his staff up in the air and slammed it down on the ground, propelling a massive seismic attack using Parselmagic. The waves hit her directly and sent her flying. A horde of vampires ran towards him only to get overwhelmed by the massive amount of flames he belched out from his fingers, burning them all to a crisp. The werewolves were busy trying to avoid the flames as they began to encircle him on all sides.

"One versus seventeen? Not fair. So not fair." He mocked as his magic took effect. Instantly, there was a Harry Potter standing behind each and every werewolf, while the one in the middle remained standing, his staff still in his hand. The seventeen Harry Potters raised their respective staves and yelled "Hastam argentum!" as silver spears shot out towards the werewolves standing in front of them respectively. The creatures, taken by surprise, instantly turned back to cast a shield against the silver arrows which seemed to vanish midway, much to their surprise when SNICKT!

The Harry Potter in the middle held his staff high, a single long thread of fire attached to its head like a long whip, as the werewolves suddenly felt something… different about themselves. They looked down at their abdomen, looking curiously at the thin ring of blood forming there, as they tried to understand what had happened when-

THUD!

One of them suddenly slipped off and fell to the ground. The problem was- only the upper part of the torso fell, while the rest remained standing, as if trying to understand why its upper part was now missing. Slowly, every single werewolf broke into two, before rolling off onto the ground.

A werewolf Patronus rushed through the air at that moment and pulled to a halt in front of the warmage, interrupting the thudding of werewolf bodies hitting the floor. Then Harry heard the voice of Remus Lupin coming from the ghostly form "Dementors, Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley. Sirius and Order need help if you can!" Harry knew he had to hurry. Dementors and Sirius did not mix well. It was time to end this.

"POTTER!" Bellatrix roared. "This is not the end! I will get your-SNICKT!" She instantly apparated as Harry' fire whip slashed against her left forearm, burning away a part of it.

Harry looked around at the devastation all around. He raised his left hand and fired off a Patronus. "Go to Dumbledore. Saint Mungo is safe. I am joining Sirius." Saying so, he apparated away.

* * *

 **Meanwhile in Hogsmeade…**

Around seven giants and another twenty death eaters, coupled with two dozen vampires had attacked Hogsmeade, crushing and stomping over anything and everything that came in their way. The giants recklessly drove their massive clubs through the buildings, destroying and leaving the land behind them in ruins. The leader of the giants spotted the three broomsticks and raised his club to obliterate it when-

BOOM!

A humongous fireball launched towards his club, obliterating it into splinters. The giant roared in indignation as the death eaters raised their wand cautiously, no more exhilarated as they found the other most powerful man in Britain, standing in front, wand-waving in his hand. The familiar scarlet phoenix soared in the air next to him before settling over his shoulder.

Albus Dumbledore was here for the rescue.

The death eaters whipped their wands, hurling curses and hexes at the man who simply waved his wand to transfigure a huge wall of marble between himself and the spells. The wall intercepted the curses, but got broken into tiny pieces. Seeing the famous Albus Dumbledore's defense get broken so easily, some of the death eaters began to laugh.

"Is that all you have got, old man?" Dennis travers, one of the senior death eaters, yelled at him.

Albus Dumbledore simply waved his wand like a baton, as the pieces of marble levitated upwards in the air, before he twisted his wand in a complex movement, transfiguring the rocks into six-feet long and considerably thick metal spears. With one single thrust of his wand, the spears shot upwards, impaling the giants at vital points. One single attack, and half of the giant population was levelled to dust.

The grin on Travers' face vaporized as he held his wand tightly.

Albus smiled as a thestral Patronus arrived "Saint Mungo is safe. I am joining Sirius." The distraction was just enough for Albus to start firing chains and curses to the remaining death eaters. He could see one order member taking a page from Harry's book and using fire at the vampires while another was using his own dueling methods of attack. The other order members were all in stages of battle as well …

Albus fought his way over to some of the others while firing vampires to their doom. Emmeline Vance, an order member spotted him and started to take another one down.

"Albus," she hollered as she made her way through the fray, "did I see a Patronus come through here? Are we needed at Diagon or St. Mungo's?" she asked as the two kept on fighting.

Albus shook his head as he shot another curse at the vampire coming behind his loyal member and old friend. "No, that was from Harry and he is on his way to Diagon now, St Mungo's is safe."

The older woman shot another curse at an approaching Death Eater and continued fighting.

* * *

 **Somewhere in Diagon Alley…**

"Alastor, to your left!" Sirius yelled, as he and Moody fought against the vampires and the death eaters in a double-team formation, just like the first war, though he had partnered with James then.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Moody lifted a rock slab, intercepting the curse while Sirius fired a rather nasty curse, smashing the death eaters' family jewels into goo.

"That was some curse, Black. Learning from family, are we?" Moody asked, as he conjured a dozen silver arrows and propelled them towards the vampires, who somehow moved out of the way.

"Yep!" Sirius answered, spinning away as another severing hex passed him before throwing off another decapitation curse at a vampire. "The less number of opponents, the less curses I have to throw."

"Sirius Black exerting caution? That is new!" Moody laughed, as he fired several questionable curses, rendering the vampires maimed and mutilated. Beyond them, Kingsley, Amelia Bones and another twenty from the Auror regiment were fighting against what seemed to be around fifty death eaters, with at least seventy other vampires and some werewolves.

"BLACK, I will kill you and bathe in your blood, today!" snarled Greyback, as he fired several dark hexes before letting his inner animal on the loose and jumping on to him. Sirius was already busy fighting off two other death eaters when Greyback jumped over him. He had hardly raised his wand to fire a spell when another shadow threw the incoming projectile away with superhuman effort mid-descent.

Greyback rolled over the dusty road as he pulled himself up and snarled. "Lupin!"

Remus smirked. "What? Didn't see that coming?" he whipped his wand out and yelled, "Reducto maxima!" The blasting curse shattered Greyback's shields throwing him away by another five feet.

"Remus!" Sirius exclaimed, "-you are back!"

Remus shrugged. "I left for home as soon as I heard from the packs about Greyback recruiting for a fight. So old Voldemort decided to return with a bang, did he?"

Sirius guffawed. "Good to have you back, Moony." He waved his wand, and sent two dark spears, impaling the two death eaters through their necks, killing them instantaneously.

"Trying to live up to your reputation as a mass-murderer, Sirius?" Remus joked, raising his eyebrows.

Sirius shrugged. The death eaters were on the defensive but there were still a lot many left. Diagon Alley had suffered a lot of destruction but it would have to cope up. Suddenly, the entire environment changed as he felt coldness grip his veins. The sky was getting cloudy as the coldness began to rise.

"Dementors!" He whispered fearfully.

"Don't worry Padfoot, I got you covered." Remus replied supportively, holding his shoulder firmly. Sirius nodded. Azkaban had done a number on him, and dementors had kind of, a nasty effect on his mind. He clutched his wand tighter.

Before Remus did anything else, he knew Sirius would need his Godson here to help with the effect these foul creatures had on his longtime friend. "Go to Harry. Dementors, Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley. Sirius and the Order need help if you can!"

A swarm of over one hundred dementors floated in out of nowhere, surrounding everyone. The area turned almost foggy as the dementors preyed upon them. The death eaters saw this as their chance and returned fire with another forceful attack.

"PATRONUSES NOW!" Amelia yelled, firing off her Rottweiler Patronus as Kingsley sent out his ethereal swan. Remus' silvery wolf ran about while Moody fired off what looked to be some kind of grizzly bear. The rest of the Aurors tried to produce it but could only get mist. The Patronuses worked against the dementors, repelling them back, as the Aurors took heart and began to counterattack.

That's when things got ugly.

Remus tried to assure Sirius as he saw the terrified look on his face "Harry will be here soon, Sirius. Hold on, I called him and he will be here soon!" He only hoped he was telling the truth and Harry would be able to make it.

Another swarm of Dementors joined in, the rattling noises from their throats magnified by some dark energies, as the Patronuses failed to keep the newly increased Dementor population from attack. One by one, all of the Patronuses faded with the Rottweiler being the last.

They were surrounded.

"We need help. _Big help_." Amelia muttered.

Almost as in answer to her prayers, a portion of the Dementor population screamed in agony as a huge burst of flames dissipated them away, allowing sunlight to reappear for the captives beneath the Dementor canopy. The incomer raised his hands as two spheres of pure magic manifested in them, before throwing them out on opposite directions. The magical orbs twisted and transformed into two separate thestral Patronuses which plundered through the Dementor population, breaking them away.

Harry Potter had come to their aide.

"Harry!" Remus sighed in relief.

"Godson!" Sirius shouted, excited to see him at last.

"Is that Potter?" a few of the Auror contingent queried among themselves as they watched what appeared to be an avenging angel coming into their midst.

Harry raised his staff and rotated it into a circle above his head, before yelling up to the heavens…. "FULGUR TEMPESTAS!" The circle glowed with eldritch energies before a huge shaft of light shot out of light upwards, forming a bright sphere of light above them. The light emanating from it was so dazzling that the dementors had to retreat from it.

"HASTAM TEMPESTAS!"

Huge forks of dazzling white lightning shot out from the light sphere, mutilating and burning the dementors in the process. The nightmarish creatures cried out in agony, their numbers dissipating out of fear, knowing that there was someone amongst the prey who had the ability to truly exterminate them. The remaining dementors screeched loudly as they rapidly floated away.

* * *

 **Meanwhile, at Hogwarts…**

"REDUCTO! CREPITUS! ABOLEO! CONCIDO!" Daphne sent the hexes in quick succession, as she fought on three death eaters at the same time. Peter had done a masterful job of showing the secret passageways into the school to the death eaters and now sixteen death eaters were inside the school.

The death eaters had divided into two teams, with one fighting the other teachers. Flitwick, and Minerva held them up front, while the rest of the professors made sure that the students were safe inside the common rooms. Daphne who was in the hospital wing with Astoria and Tracey, had found herself off-guard by the sudden intrusion since no one could make out how the death eaters had traversed into the castle despite the outer wards being up at full power.

Tracey was busy defending herself and Astoria behind a basic Protego shield giving her the chance to go for the offensive. Daphne spun forward and fired up a low-powered fire whip, not enough to cut through organs but enough to char skin on contact. She spun elegantly, lashing with the whip as she lashed it over Mulciber's face, charring his cheek and slashing across his left eye. The man groaned in agony and Daphne took the moment to send a powerful bludgeoner at his groin, sending the man crying in agony. The others decided that Daphne was the more important opponent and showered blasting curses over her, making her retreat behind a hastily conjured shield.

They slowly fought their way out of the hospital towards the seventh floor, hoping that the Fidelius would keep them safe inside. They met Zacharias Smith on the way who was himself fighting against a death eater and joined him. She found herself fighting three more death-eaters, and two more who were busy shattering through Tracey and Astoria's defenses when-

"CRUCIO!"

Raw agony shot through her as she fell down on her feet, screaming in pain. She swallowed and tasted blood in her mouth, as she looked at the direction from which the surprise attack had come from.

"Hello Greengrass." He set a powerful severing hex towards Astoria who fell down on the ground, her leg oozing blood on the floor. Zacharias was already down and Tracey was busy keeping her shield up.

"Malfoy." Daphne snarled, as she saw red. Momentarily she forgot about what people might think of her, or that she was still a student who was facing three grown-up wizards. All she cared was that she was surrounded and that her sister was injured, and needed her help. She closed her eyes and took a breath, as her primal-self took over.

When she had opened her eyes, she wasn't the girl who was fighting to defend her family and friend, she was the girl who had studied the dark arts extensively under the locket's influence. She was the girl who had become something to be feared, and her eyes glinted madly as a form of darkness lurked within them.

Her wand, which she was holding like a baton all this while, now hung freely on her arm, as she stood up, looking at the pale blonde with a feral glint in her eye.

"You shouldn't have done that, Malfoy." She whispered, as Malfoy laughed before sending a dark curse at her. Almost lazily, she whipped her wand up, manifesting a shield with nary a thought, which disappeared, having intercepted Malfoy's attack. Her right hand then suddenly became a blur, as she sent two javelins at two of the death eaters, and fired a dark, wide-area severing hex at them. The javelin got one while the hex decapitated the other. The third fell to Tracey's stunner.

The remaining two death eaters sided with Malfoy as the three of them sent powerful blasting curses towards the angry girl, who dodged, weaved and deflected the curses almost effortlessly. All those moments she had spent in training, all those techniques her betrothed had taught her, everything now flowed through her as she let her primal-self take over. Her magic flowed down with her mental commands as she threw high-powered dark hexes towards them, killing one more death eater and binding Malfoy in iron shackles while hitting him with a powerful severing curse that took off his left arm, making him fall on the ground in agony and then she turned back and-

"Stupefy!"

The crimson jet inundated her world as she fell down, the last sight being the smoking wand of Zacharias Smith who stood looking at her emotionlessly.

"That was… _difficult._ " One of the death eaters commented as he stood panting. Astoria and Tracey were already stunned and bound on the ground. He looked at Malfoy who was whimpering in agony, holding the remains of his left arm, and got down, trying to repair it but in vain.

"Someone get him to a healer." Zacharias commented smoothly. "The dark lord would want _her_ ," he pointed towards Daphne who lay stunned on the floor, "take her away to the dark lord. That was the order." He licked his lips. "I will await the dark lord's next orders."

The two men nodded and bound Daphne using _Incarcerous_ charms and held her up, before walking back to the entrance that led to the three broomsticks.

* * *

 **Meanwhile at the Ministry of Magic…**

"How do you like my new attire, Augustus?"

Augustus Rookwood was accompanying the dark lord to the Department of Mysteries. They had just crossed the atrium and were now walking to the ninth-floor corridor.

Augustus smiled hesitantly. "It fits your persona, my lord. I am yet to decipher the true nature of the armor you are wearing. As far as I knew, it was a shadow when it first formed, before it changed into a cloak and now it has added an armor over you." He paused, "the armor isn't any hide, but more… _metallic_. I have never heard of anything like it."

"Touch it, Augustus. You have my permission."

Augustus reluctantly extended his arm towards the dark lord, as he touched the metallic armor that the dark lord had adorned. It was… different. There was a reason wizards did not work on metal armory, since it couldn't be enchanted. But this was…

" _Steel?"_ He asked, surprised at the discovery.

"Not just steel. _Shadow-forged steel,_ my friend. It can even withstand dragon-fire and Fiendfyre to some extent."

Augustus could only nod at the ingenuity before him. "Shadow-forged… steel."

The dark lord's eyes widened for a moment and then, he smirked. "Ah, I see that the special guest for the occasion is here, already."

"Potter?"

Lord Voldemort laughed. "No, not Potter. Someone far less inferior but at this moment, much more special. Someone who will be my ace in the hole."

"Voldemort…"

His smile shifting into a visible frown, he looked towards his left as he saw his partner, Gellert Grindelwald walking beside him. "What can I do for you?" He asked, keeping his feelings of resentment inside.

"just wanted to make sure that you remember…" He paused, "No matter what, do not employ the powers of the Shadow in a direct fight with Potter. The shadow learns from every fight, and right now, it has known nothing. Allow it to study Potter, and if somehow Potter is able to survive the battle today, at least the shadow will be able to pick on the strengths and powers he has displayed in the fight, making sure that it won't be a surprise to you the next time you face the boy."

Augustus blanched.

 _The Shadow can analyze the enemy and learn their moves? Genius!_

Lord Voldemort smiled. "Do not worry. I have other uses for the Shadow at the moment. In any case, Potter will be dying tonight. The shadow is for my true opponent in battle, Albus Dumbledore, at least as much of an opponent a mortal can be against an immortal."

Gellert refused to comment.

"The second phase of the ritual requires the sacrifice of a powerful wizard and my enemy, and tonight, Harry Potter is going to be the ultimate sacrifice…"

* * *

 **Back in Diagon Alley…**

"I have received reports. Hogsmeade is safe, as is Saint Mungo's. The death eaters attacked Hogwarts but the professors defended them off." Sirius proclaimed.

"What? At Hogwarts? How did they enter there?" Amelia blurted in surprise.

"Pettigrew." Harry, Sirius and Remus replied bitterly in unison.

"Does he know all the secret entrances of the castle?" She questioned.

Sirius nodded with a frown.

"So now the dark lord knows them too. We have to close the entrances."

"Damn!" Remus grunted.

"Any other news?" Harry asked.

"None." Sirius added.

"Well then I suppose I should go and check on Daphne! I know she can defend herself easily but I need to check for assurances." Harry returned before apparating away.

" _Just like his father."_ Sirius added mocking Snape's tone, making the others laugh.

* * *

 **Few moments later…**

"We couldn't do anything, Harry!" Tracey sobbed, "they took her- they overwhelmed her and took her!"

Harry looked at her emotionlessly, inwardly raging in anger.

"She was defending us rather well, until there was a surprise attack on her." She paused, "With a Cruciatus."

"Who was it?" He asked slowly.

Tracey snarled. "Draco Malfoy, and then he-" Her remaining statement was left unsaid, as a crack filled the air as Harry Potter vanished from the place, reappearing in the Slytherin common room. The moment he appeared, every single wand got raised at him, though most of them were in fear, what with the way energy and lightning was crackling all around him.

"I have just one question." He replied slowly. "Where is Draco Malfoy?"

"Why do you need him, Potter?" One of the seventh years asked.

"He helped the death eaters. He helped them capture my girlfriend away to Voldemort." The people in the room flinched as he uttered the name.

Several people stepped forward.

"We won't let you take Draco. We will defeat you and throw you at the dark lord's feet." Pansy Parkinson, who stood alongside the others, exclaimed proudly.

"I am going to say this once. Give me Draco Malfoy, and get out of my way. If you don't, _heads will roll."_ He could feel the barbarian inside his head cheer in support as he allowed Ignotus's rage overwhelm him.

"We will not." Pansy raised her wand.

Harry waved his staff in a complicated gesture, and every single one of them fell down on the ground, holding their heads and screaming in agony. He could see Draco Malfoy on a bed, lying down behind them. He waved his hand, as Draco found himself levitated recklessly and shoved down on the floor, the bloodied hand oozing more blood.

"See what your girlfriend did to me, Potter?" He cried bitterly. "I am happy that now the dark lord will give her a very painful death. Even if I die today, I will be in peace knowing how the dark lord made her writhe in pain as her organs would twist and burn andAAAAAAAA-"

Harry twisted his wrist and his staff turned a little, as Malfoy felt the torsion around his backbone and screamed in agony. Harry drew closer to him and whispered, "Do you feel the pain in your abdomen, Malfoy? That is the sound of your backbone twisting. Soon it will twist beyond repair and tear your spinal cord into two pieces. I would love to see a healer trying to put that back together."

He twisted his wrist again and channeled his magic through his wand. "Last chance. Tell me, _where is Daphne?"_

Malfoy coughed, blood spurted out of his mouth as he did. "Even if I tell you, you will kill me anyway." He somehow managed to form a sickly smile. "NO Potter, I will die in pain, only to see you fail in finding your girlfriend while the dark lord-" He coughed again. "The pain doesn't matter to me, Potter."

Harry's face tightened. "A lot of people say that, _until the pain starts_." He twisted his wand as Malfoy yelled out, screaming in indescribable agony. Harry made some quick strokes with his wand as Malfoy felt the same twisting in his rib-cage, as he screamed. "STOP! STOP! I WILL TELL YOU EVERYTHING!"

His hand relaxed, and the pain Malfoy was experiencing subdued momentarily. "THE DARK LORD- DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES-"

"TELL ME MORE!" Harry yelled. Malfoy spurted some more blood. "He said to capture HER. Greengrass- she—she saved her sister but me and other death eaters got to her before she could escape." He coughed again. "The dark lord WILL KILL HER, Potter!" He tried to grin.

Harry's face turned blank, as he twisted his wrist again, as Malfoy's spine twisted with a finality as it split into two pieces, the other boy instantly going numb as the effect paralyzed him for life. He didn't shout, he did not scream, not that he could, as his body went into complete paralysis, as he lost consciousness.

* * *

 **Moments later…**

"Harry, you know this is a trap," Dumbledore tried to prevail on him, "the attacks- Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, Saint Mungo's- it was all a distraction to diverge us out of Hogwarts. They intended to infiltrate Hogwarts and capture Miss Greengrass, so that they could force your hand-"

"They did, and now I am going to this place. Are you helping me or not?" Harry refuted back.

"We are," Sirius replied supportively, "We just need to have a plan of attack."

Harry stood up. "I have a plan. Attack." He reached for the window and turned towards them. "Figure something out, and bring reinforcements. In the meantime, I need to give Voldemort a piece of my mind."

"Harry, Voldemort wants the prophecy-"

"Which he can have, for all I care," Harry retorted, "every minute we waste, Daphne is in danger, and I am done speculating." He jumped off the window, and apparated midair.

Dumbledore sighed. Looking up at Sirius, he replied, "Gather the reinforcements. My gut says that we will be surprised at what we find there."

Harry appeared into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. The new method of transportation that Ignotus had taught him was very effective- for one, it was unrestrained by wards. While he could not transport himself through powerful wards, it worked just fine against anti-apparation wards. With one single crack, he appeared in the entrance of the Ministry atrium.

It was as quiet as the dead of the night. He cast a tempus spell.

11:29 P.M.

Close to midnight.

 _Potter, I think you should let me have this one…_

 _No, I will be the one. It has to be me._

 _Don't be an idiot. This is going to be a trap. Both of us know that I should be the one to do this._

Harry stayed silent.

 _At least then allow me to be your primal self, when you feel surrounded._

 _I will._

 _Better._

He closed his eyes and expanded his senses. There were death eaters hiding in the atrium, cloaked under disillusionment charms. For some reason, they weren't firing spells. That meant two things- one, the dark bastard had explicitly ordered them not to attack him, just like he did at the graveyard. Or two, they were concocting a trap.

He didn't care.

The cloak heard his call and turned him invisible, as he wandlessly levitated himself up into the lift. A little bit of passive Legilimency scanned disorientation and confusion among the death eaters, but he ignored it and flew upwards. Reaching the lift, he entered into it and found it completely empty.

 _Number 9. Department of Mysteries._

The button activated at his touch, as the lift zoomed down all the way until it screeched as it came to a stop. The door sprang open.

"Level 9. Department of Mysteries." Said a cool, female voice.

Harry cursed. Rendering himself invisible, he activated the powers of the cloak as he stepped through the walls, flying through rooms, ignoring everything he witnessed on the way. And finally, he was there…

 _The Hall of Prophecy…_

He stopped as he expanded his senses.

 _Daphne must be here somewhere…_

He walked slowly through the narrow lane between the shelves, each holding layers and layers of stands on which little spherical orbs were kept. Some of them glowed with a silvery sheen, others looked almost dull and blackened. The room emitted a soft neon light.

And then he heard it.

A sound… A call, something that was calling to him… to his soul…it was… strange.

 _It is the prophecy calling you…_

 _Me?_

 _Yes. The prophecy is about you. It is calling you to pick the orb from the shelf and hold on to it. It is ancient magic at work._

 _More ancient than you?_

 _More ancient than me._

Death eaters… Damn it, they seemed to be everywhere, hiding in, inside that very room, and importantly, there was some kind of concealment inside the very room, something he could sense but his senses couldn't penetrate… he knew that there were a lot of people in the vicinity, but for Merlin's -

Damn! His eyes widened.

He was on a _Fidelius ground_. Master Prince had lectured him on it. A simple tweaking of the Fidelius charm could be used to employ it as a wide-area concealment charm… only visible when the caster wanted it to be. The disadvantage was that once it was rendered visible, the charm faded, which meant-

He was inside a trap. He was being monitored and while he couldn't see anyone, they could see him. And with that, came another bout of recognition…

 _They are waiting for me to pick the orb. Voldemort knows that the call of the prophecy is too difficult to ignore._

 _If they have set a trap, you need to break out of it too… Use the power as I taught you... Use the Cloak…_

He reached forward, as his eyes settled on the prophecy orb in front of him. It read…

 **S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D.**

 **Dark Lord and (?)Harry Potter**

This was it. This was the cause of everything. And now, the entire thing was about to end.

He extended his hand forward. He could almost sense the death eaters itching to fire curses at him the moment he plucked the orb.

 _Do it._

He touched the orb, feeling the subtle magic over the orb checking and validating his claim.

 _Any moment now…_

 _Accio…._

He summoned the entire row of shelves towards him, the prophecy orb falling down to create a vast smokescreen as he turned himself invisible. The cloak activated, making him immune to spell fire, as shouts broke out, and curses flew right and left. He could hear them cursing out loud about Harry Potter coming into their hands and then escaping when there was a-

"ENOUGH!" roared Lucius Malfoy! _"Ostendere Fidelius!"_

Instantly, the entire group of death eaters were visible, Harry observed. There were at least thirty death eaters in there, with Daphne bound to a chair in the centre, stunned and injured, and standing next to her, was Malfoy. The cloak's powers at maximum effect, he darted towards her and the moment he was close enough, he willed his magic out as he thought clearly…

" _Solaris primus maximus!"_

A huge sphere of blinding white light flooded the entire place, and even the dark lord had to shield his eyes from the blinding luminosity. Harry took advantage of the moment as he quickly cast an illusion, and used the powers of the cloak to break her out of any locking charms, pulling her out in the process. Malfoy threw out a massive black fog like substance from his wand which engulfed the light orb, extinguishing its radiance completely. He looked back towards the seat, only to find it empty as he roared in anger.

"Potter! You cannot get out of this place. Give me the prophecy orb, and I will allow you to leave." He roared.

"And you are well-known across the length and breadth of wizarding Britain for keeping your word." Harry retorted back, his outline now visible against the smoke behind him. He had placed the unconscious girl on one side and put her under a heavy-duty shield.

Lucius's lips curled. "Not very smart of you, Potter. You might have freed the girl, but you wouldn't be able to get out of this place alive. The dark lord made sure of that."

Ignotus snorted in Harry's head and said 'Didn't he just say he would allow us to leave if we gave him the prophecy? And now he it's you can't get out because the dark lord made sure of it. So, which is it?'

'Yeah, as I said, not well known for keeping his word.' Harry replied back to his alter ego.

Malfoy was not kidding. Harry could sense powerful barriers all around the room, activated and raised to maximum power. Furthermore, the barriers did not stop intrusion, only extrusion. Which meant, people could come in, not get out. The countless army of creatures and death eaters outside now made much more sense.

 _I am in a kill zone._

That meant- he would have to fight his way out. The cloak protected him from spell damage, but not Daphne. In some other situation, he would have stunned and transfigured her, but not knowing what they might have done to her, it was not an option. He would have to fight and defeat them all.

 _The word you are looking for is kill. Let me out._

Harry resisted.

"Give us the prophecy, brat!" grunted Rudolphus Lestrange.

"So, an entire army against little old me, is it?" Harry taunted.

"If _necessary_ ," Bellatrix snarled.

"Ah, Bellatrix, did you tell your ickle friends about how you landed up on your arse?" He taunted, and was pleased to see her snarl in anger.

"We will get the prophecy, Potter, over your dead body, if required." Malfoy replied coolly.

"Three versus one, no fair. How about this?" Harry sneered, as he cast three more illusions of himself.

"Ah the famous _doppelganger defense_ illusion," Malfoy sneered, "that is all you have got?"

Harry smirked. "I was just getting started, as the three Harry Potters darted towards the death eaters to fire powerful hexes, and shockingly, the curses actually hit their shields.

"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?" Bellatrix yelled, raising her wand to defend herself.

Harry smirked. "That was the beginning, and this is how to go _beyond_ …." And he let go, submitting to his primal self as Ignotus claimed the front seat. The souls shifted, as his magic resonated, exploding out of him in spectacular fashion. The elder wand manifested on his right hand, as his staff shortened to wand-length in his left. His eyes glowed with a feral sheen, as he summoned his magics.

 _If you want a fight, I will give you a fight._

* * *

Albus Dumbledore, Sirius Black and the rest of the Order appeared through one of the Floo entrances at the Ministry Atrium. The moment they stepped inside the main hall, all hell broke loose as an army of a hundred vampires and scores of death eaters stood there, wands raised at them. Augustus Rookwood walked from between the dark army up to the forefront.

"Welcome, Professor Dumbledore," he snarled. "We are… tonight's _entertainment._ "

"Harry will need your help. You go ahead. I and the rest of the Order will deal with these people." Sirius muttered.

Albus considered it. "Will you be able to hold them off?"

"He is not alone." Remus answered from behind. Albus counted it. Fifteen Order members against an army of dark creatures didn't look that positive, but he had no option. "Very well," he muttered and looked at Fawkes who burst into flames, vanishing him away from the Atrium.

Sirius watched the old mage vanish in a pillar of flames as he clutched his wand tightly. Fifteen against a hundred and fifty did not look good. He steadied himself as the rest of the Order members stood with him.

"Ready?" Tonks asked, standing next to Lupin.

Sirius took a deep breath as he glared at the army in front of him. "Let's play." He snarled.

* * *

Albus slammed down on the ground as the powerful wards negated Fawkes from travelling through them. Fawkes squawked in irritation as he flew around Dumbledore, who waved his wand to analyze the strange barrier that was erected all around the inner Hall.

"These are not normal wards..." he muttered.

"Necromantic," replied a very familiar voice. He spun back, his eyes suddenly cold as he recognized the person standing there behind him.

"Gellert." He gritted his teeth.

" _Old_ _freund_ …" Gellert grinned, "how nice to see you again…"

"I thought you were unable to use your magic," Albus replied coolly, his fingers twitching over the surface of his familiar birch wand.

"You were _correct_ ," Gellert laughed, "However, your… Voldemort and I made a deal. I help him increase his powers and he helped me with my _problem."_

Albus stayed quiet.

Gellert raised his new prosthetic right hand. "Made of mercury, you know? Once I was free to use my magic, I regrew my wand hand and made it better." He snarled. "And now, we can continue where we left off in 1945."

"I should have killed you when I had the chance." Albus hissed.

"You should have," Gellert taunted, "we create our own demons, Al. And tonight, the demon you created will destroy you." He pointed towards the barrier. "To enter through that barrier, you will need to defeat me first. Until then, you are limited to fighting me, my old freund."

Albus raised his wand, his magic singing and egging him to call it. "let's dance, Gellert."

* * *

Back inside the Hall, Ignotus was ravaging the place. The three chief lieutenants of the dark lord were getting hard-pressed fighting against him who seemed to be effortlessly beating them to the pulp. They had somehow defended themselves, escaping from the Prophecy room to the Time Room to another vast chamber that held the Veil of Death. The other death-eaters had joined in, resulting in a clutter of heads rolling down on the floors as Ignotus gave them their death with open hands.

The three death eaters liberally fired Unforgivables, but Ignotus waved his elder wand, the wand that always cast true for its Master, and transfigured walls from the air, intercepting them. He waved the elder wand as the broken marbles transfigured into javelins and hurled them towards them. Two of the javelins impaled Rudolphus, killing him instantly. Bellatrix nearly missed one, but it slashed against her leg, as she fell on the floor. Malfoy was already fallen on the floor, unconscious from a powerful bludgeoner.

"The dark lord will come for you, Potter…" she snarled, holding her injured leg as she tried to drag herself up. She pushed her abdomen over the floor, trying to get away from the boy.

Ignotus stood above her, ready to cast the killing strike. He could see the fear in her eyes. "Really, _where_ is your dark lord now? I don't see him coming?"

"Wouldn't I, Potter?" came a disembodied voice, that seemed to chill everyone's bones. A black mist entered the room, which condensed together as Lord Voldemort stood in front of him in all his glory, his aura raging as it reeked of darkness.

Bellatrix looked scared for a moment, before she smirked and yelled, _"Final Sacrifice."_ The ground suddenly glowed blue, and before he was able to understand what happened, powerful iron shackles shot out of the floor, binding all over Harry, holding him captive. Harry tried to break through by trying to push his magic out of his hands, but the shackles seemed to bind him tighter.

"It's futile, Harry Potter." Lord Voldemort walked towards him. "The more you use your energy, the more powerful these shackles will become." He smiled. Walking up close, he stood in front as he looked at the face of his greatest enemy….

"Harry... Potter… The boy-who-lived… Last year you were there at the graveyard, bound to a rock, and today you are once again, bound while I stand before you…Harry, Harry, Harry… do you not realize, that you are only running out of borrowed time? Time that your mudblood mother got you…but death came for you finally, as you knew he must…" He slipped a dagger and plunged it inside Harry's abdomen, "that which you feel, is basilisk venom… now in less than a few minutes, it will slowly decay your organs and kill you from within. Nothing, not even your mother's sacrifice will be able to save you now..."

He laughed.

Meanwhile, just outside the barrier, the entire place was in ruins. The duel between the two grand mages had wrecked destruction the likes of which had not been seen since 1945, though one could say that the destruction could have been much more, but fortunately for the entire floor and unfortunately for Albus Dumbledore, Gellert Grindelwald seemed to fight to delay, than to win. Every move was clinical, just enough to neutralize Dumbledore's attack, and keep him busy. He did not want to kill him, rather his entire objective seemed to be contain him, and keep him busy until something had happened, and then-

"ENOUGH!"

Dumbledore stood straight, his wand sparking in rage as Gellert suddenly roared out. "The game has gone for enough, Albus." He pointed towards the barrier. "If you want to go in now, I won't stop you. Of course, you might want to kill me and finish me first, but then you will miss witnessing your miracle boy get sacrificed so that Voldemort can ascend to powers the likes of which the world has never seen before."

Dumbledore gritted his teeth in anger.

"So which of it, is it going to be? Will you choose vengeance over your miracle child?" Gellert raised his wand towards the barrier and sent a purple spell, as the entire barrier crumbled to pieces. Inwardly, he hoped that Dumbledore would fall for it since he was out of power and any more continuation of the duel would kill him surely.

"This is NOT over, Gellert. I will kill you, and I will kill you myself."

"Sure," Gellert drawled, "but right now you should hurry, my freund. Your boy hasn't got much time left…" He laughed as he summoned his remaining magical power to transport himself out of the Ministry.

"Harry!" thought Dumbledore, as he strode into the chamber.

* * *

"Any last wish, Harry Potter? I will certainly like to fulfill it. Think of me as paying it a tribute to you for being a worthy enemy, at least as much a mortal can be to an immortal." Voldemort drawled, as Harry writhed on the ground in pain. The succession of Cruciatus curses from all sides, coupled with the basilisk poison shutting him down from insides had rendered him beyond weak.

 _Ignotus! We have to do something!_

 _I am trying!_

 _We have to! If we die, he is going to kill Daphne and everyone else. We cannot do it. We cannot._

 _Shut up Potter! I am trying. Just a little more time…_

"But then I reconsider, there is no point killing you beforehand. I will rather have the pleasure of watching you as I kill your girlfriend in front of your very eyes." He laughed cruelly, as he turned, "Bella, bring the girl."

Ignotus struggled.

 _Ignotus, let me out._

 _There is nothing you can do, Potter._

 _Just let me out…._

Ignotus did not resist.

Voldemort was speaking again, as he lifted the fallen girl and levitated her in the air. He cast an enervate at her, as Daphne stirred, before her eyes widened as she understood what was about to happen. She turned toward her right to see Harry bound in chains as she tried to speak, but it hurt…

"Har—ry?"

"Watch as I take your own from you once again, Harry Potter. Hope this will remind you why I am the most feared man on the planet…" He raised his wand towards Daphne as he yelled…

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

At that exact minute, several things happened.

Using a force of magic impossible and absolutely formidable to begin with, Harry Potter shattered the shackles, making them tear as the blood magic used to create them, something that was nigh impossible, since sacrificial blood magic was one of the most powerful magics out there.

Harry let out a yell as he sent his entire magical power into a single spell, as the magic manifested into a shaft of pure energy, tearing through the Avada Kedavra and hitting Voldemort, hurling him back into the wall and obliterating his wand arm completely. His wand got swept up in the air before the shockwave shattered it into pieces. Bellatrix screamed in rage as her Lord and Master fell down on the wall, his wand arm completely obliterated, as blood dripped off from it on the floor. Harry smirked as he somehow stood over his own feet, feeling his energy reserves at an all-time low.

"Third rule of battle-never believe you have won until you have the enemy dead or incapacitated." He sneered, "You never know what tricks the opponent might just have under his sleeve."

"You speak as if you are the only one who has a trick under his sleeve, Potter." Voldemort spoke out, as he stood up. "Watch this," he sneered, as he looked at his amputated wand-arm. Some kind of magic simmered over the surface of the injury and then suddenly, a new limb grew out from the injury, as Harry looked at him with shock.

"See this, Potter? Do you understand why I am the most feared man on the planet? It was simply a fluke that I had to lose my human self the previous time, but this time, this resurrected form is much more powerful, much less vulnerable and much more sophisticated than ever possible." He looked at the remains of hi broken wand, "—you shouldn't have done that, Potter, Previously I thought I would give you a wizard's death, but now…" He walked up to Harry Potter who looked defiantly at him. The boy was almost falling down but still standing up. "You have been a nuisance for so long, Harry Potter. It is time to end it all." With one devilish smirk, he stepped back and then suddenly strode up and kicked him in the abdomen, throwing him into the veil.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Albus Dumbledore and Daphne both yelled in unison, as they witnessed him fall down into the depths of the Veil. Albus Dumbledore, who seemed to stagger before his knees gave away, slowly fell down on the floor, weeping openly.

"You… you… monster!" Daphne muttered in blind rage, as she tried to get up from the floor, her legs failing her as she fell down again with a thud. Bellatrix cackled in sick amusement.

"Look at me, Dumbledore!" Lord Voldemort replied, as she walked towards the weeping man on the floor. "I sent your beloved child of Prophecy into the veil, and now… I have defied the prophecy…"

That shut the old man up. "The… prophecy…" he muttered, slowly getting up from the floor. "The Prophecy orb…"

"My lord," One of the death eaters called in, distracting the dark lord, "I found the orb. It was here." The new recruit picked the silvery orb from the floor and raised it; said item zooming out of his hands as the dark lord summoned it from him.

"This… this cannot be possible..." The dark lord muttered slowly, as he looked at the orb in his hand. The orb glowed with an eerie silvery sheen, the glow somehow mocking him.

"I JUST KILLED HARRY POTTER!" Lord Voldemort bellowed, "WHY IS THIS PROPHECY STILL ACTIVE?" He spun towards Dumbledore, "WHAT TRICKERY IS THIS?"

To his shock, the old man began to laugh. Harder, and harder, getting on his nerves. "What is so funny? What is SO FUNNY?"

"The prophecy…." Dumbledore laughed…. "You... wanted the prophecy Tom, and now you have it... Break it... Break it… let everyone hear it…" He replied amidst his laughter, which resounded all over the vast chamber.

Lord Voldemort looked at him in anger. He cast a final look at the orb before smashing it down on the floor. An enormous grayish cloud soared out of it, as Sybil Trelawney's voice spoke out…

" **The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches...  
born to those who have thrice defied him...  
born as the seventh month dies...**

 **And the dark lord will mark him as his equal,  
but he will have power the dark lord knows not...  
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...**

 **The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"**

"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? I JUST KILLED HARRY POTTER?" Lord Voldemort roared in absolute fury. "HOW CAN THE PROPHECY STILL HOLD TRUE?"

Dumbledore still laughed, as if he had gone round the bend completely. "You haven't killed him, Tom! You cannot kill him... You have killed him once, and now it is time that you get killed by him…"

"What? What does that mean-"

Dumbledore stood up. "Harry Potter lives, and Harry Potter will return for your death, Tom Marvolo Riddle!" He roared as he whipped his wand in anger…. Gigantic flames shot out of his wand as it formed a ginormous phoenix that shot towards Voldemort who stared at his defiance in anger.

"HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!" Voldemort roared, as he raised his arms wide, propelling out a shockwave of dark magic that reduced Dumbledore's elemental attack into nothingness. "And now you will pay for your sins… AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The shaft of poisonous green shot out towards Dumbledore from Voldemort's hands as Dumbledore watched it coming towards him, but before the green bolt could reach him, a huge roar resounded the entire chamber as dazzling white lightning shot, out from within the veil, obliterating the killing curse into nothingness. The veil fluttered violently, as sounds of hooves became more and more distinct.

"What- what is happening?"

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES, RIDDLE. DEFEND YOUR IMMORTALITY NOW!" Dumbledore smirked, as his old fingers tightened around his wand.

The entire veil seemed to burst open as a ginormous raven-black thestral galloped out it, the aura radiating from it enough to make even the dark lord shield his eyes. The thestral roared as it flapped its wings powerfully, the shockwaves thus produced hurling back everyone by at least ten feet.

"WHAT—WHAT MAGIC IS THIS?" Voldemort exclaimed, as the thestral suddenly morphed and there in its place, dressed in robes of a Warmage, with the Elder wand in his right hand, and his staff in his left, the cloak of invisibility fluttering behind not unlike a cape, stood Harry James Potter. His eyes, once bright green, were now stormy gray, indicative of the storm of magical energy restrained inside his body.

"YOU…" Voldemort roared, summoning Bellatrix's wand from her as he fired off a powerful severing hex, only for Potter to send back a burst of magic. The spells collided in the center as Potter whipped his wand, as the colliding magic shit back towards Voldemort, blasting into him as it hurled him through the wall, breaking one wall after another as Harry pushed his magic. Voldemort tried to push back but the power was too great, as he was helplessly slammed against one wall and the next until they were both in the Atrium.

"HARRY… POTTER…" The dark lord gnashed his teeth as he got up, pulling himself from the floor. "You came back… You just had to come back…. Why won't you just _die?_ WHY WONT YOU JUST DIE?" he roared as he yelled, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry raised the mythical wand in his hand, the wand that always belonged to him, the wand that would always cast true for its Master… and yelled, "HASTAM ANIMA MORTIS!"

A ginormous thestral, as black as the night, erupted out of his wand, as it darted towards the oncoming killing curse, before it consumed it completely before shooting towards the dark lord. Voldemort hastily drew up his most powerful shield but the thestral tore through it, shattering it to pieces as it slammed against the dark lord, making him scream in agony the likes of which he had never known. Harry twisted his wand as the dark lord screamed even more before he fell on to the floor, panting as his entire body screamed of agony.

"I will kill you, Potter..." The dark lord muttered, as he got up slowly. "I will kill each and every one you know and love… I will take everything from AAAAA-"

"You are done taking people away from me, Tom Riddle." Harry Potter spoke, though his tone was different. There was no rage, no anger, just a sense of supreme confidence that came from knowing that the world was his to command. "You will stay in your place, or I will make you. Now kneel before me…"

Voldemort laughed. "As if I will-"

"KNEEEEL!" Harry roared, as Voldemort felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, as he staggered and fell down on his knees, in proper fashion, his head lowered down, almost as if touching the ground and he could see Harry Potter's dragon-hide boots from there. There was a flash of light as Dumbledore sent Bellatrix down on the floor, as the entire of the Order of the Phoenix, the Aurors, reporters and even Cornelius Fudge appeared on one side, through the Floo entrance… Every single eye, Auror, Order member, Death eater or even the Minister, everyone looked in awe as they witnessed Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived standing over the Dark Lord Voldemort as the latter knelt before him, despite all of his struggling to get out of Potter's spell.

Harry raised his staff and sent another purple spell at him, which made Voldemort scream in agony once again…

"He is… he is…back, truly back!" Cornelius muttered rather loudly, as everyone looked at him. Harry looked up at him, as Voldemort took the chance to throw out a magical burst as he broke from the spell, apparating away before Harry could counterattack. Strangely, Harry did not even seem worried by it at all.

"Harry… Harry, are you alright?" Dumbledore walked towards him, as he held the boy's shoulder.

"I am not Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore." Harry looked back as Dumbledore's eyes widened as his bright blue eyes met his stormy grey ones. "I am Ignotus Peverell."

* * *

 **INTERMISSION**

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS ENDS THE FIRST SEGMENT OF DEFIANCE. THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE POSTED IN A COUPLE OF WEEKS!**


	42. Chapter 42 : An ancient tale

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _"He is… he is…back, truly back!" Cornelius muttered rather loudly, as everyone looked at him. Harry looked up at him, as Voldemort took the chance to throw out a magical burst as he broke from the spell, apparating away before Harry could counterattack. Strangely, Harry did not even seem worried by it at all._

 _"Harry… Harry, are you alright?" Dumbledore walked towards him, as he held the boy's shoulder._

 _"I am not Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore." Harry looked back as Dumbledore's eyes widened as his bright blue eyes met his stormy grey ones. "I am Ignotus Peverell."_

* * *

Albus Dumbledore had seen too much of life to know that there was nothing that could be defined by the word 'impossible' when it came to magic. However, as Samuel Thüringen was fond of saying, sometimes even the best of us have to eat our words. He had seen Harry Potter fall through the veil, he had fallen down like a broken child and wept for the fallen warrior, and he had seen the ginormous Thestral gallop out of the veil, felt the eldritch energies all over it being anything but natural, and seen it shapeshift into the boy he was almost sure that he would never see again. It had lightened his old heart that Harry Potter was back and kicking, and not only that, but the boy had made the dark lord Voldemort kneel in front of him. Albus was sure that the picture would be in newspapers all around the globe- Voldemort returns back from the dead and Harry Potter forces him to kneel before his power. It was something the international magical community would eat up like pudding. But then he had been shocked out of his wits from the boy's answer. He saw it, looking into the strangely radiant, stormy-grey eyes that hid a controlled fury of a magical tempest behind them, staring into his blue eyes.

"I am not Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore." He had said. "I am Ignotus Peverell."

Ignotus Peverell. The last of the Peverells. One of the three progenitors of the Deathly Hallows. The Master of Death. Ignotus Peverell. Harry Potter. Ignotus Peverell.

It boggled the mind. There was no way in which he had heard correctly, but then, what could it be, if not the truth? The young man had simply wiped the floor with Tom, something he was sure was difficult even for Harry on his best day, and not only that, he had made Tom Riddle kneel in front of him. It was oddly satisfying.

Ignotus Peverell. The Master of Death. Come for the dark lord who had tried to cheat Death himself by creating those abominations known as horcruxes. It was almost poetic justice.

The Warmage in front of him knelt down before the young Miss Greengrass and with one single tap of his wand- the Elder wand, Albus recognized, and the young girl vanished away. He was sure that even the ancient wards of the Ministry had not sensed her pass through. He saw Harry—uh—Ignotus fade away from the Atrium, and was pretty sure that it wasn't apparation or portkey, but knowing that his presence was missing, he was sure that he was gone. The frustration at being unable to accept the true reality of what had just happened, and the excitement of the entire episode, made him just stand and stare blankly.

"Albus? Albus?"

"Yeah?" Sirius's voice broke him out of his reveries.

"What- what just happened? Where is Harry?"

"Harry—I—don't know." He gathered his words. "I suppose he went back to Hogwarts."

"How can you not know? You bloody well spoke with him. He vanished Daphne away and then just… faded out of nowhere." Sirius expressed vehemently.

Dumbledore held himself together. "A lot of things have happened tonight, Sirius." He paused, taking a deep breath, "I am not in the correct state of explain everything. Merlin knows I need some time myself to settle my thoughts first."

"But Harry-"

"Sirius," He replied sternly, "please accept my word on this. Do not go looking for Harry at the moment. He needs some privacy, and will come to you when it is time."

"But-"

"Please, Sirius?"

Sirius gave a long-suffering sigh. "Fine, what about Voldemort? He escaped. I couldn't believe it when I saw it. My godson making that infernal monster kneel in front of him!" His chest rose a couple of inches at the thought.

"yes, it is going to be news tomorrow!" Dumbledore sighed. "I believe Harry has granted us a temporary period of peace, since Tom will need to recuperate with everything before he even thinks of attacking. Especially now that the Ministry knows that he is back and everyone saw him getting defeated by Harry."

"Right." Sirius exclaimed proudly.

"As good as that is, a lot of things have changed and it is for the highest good that Harry be given some time alone."

Sirius reluctantly nodded.

"Dumbledore- you—he—what just happened?" Fudge exclaimed, his entire demeanor flustered.

"He was there!" shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall. "I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear, it was You-Know-Who, he fired something and Disapparated!"

"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pajamas under his pinstriped cloak and was gasping as though he had just run miles. "Merlin's beard — here — _here_! — in the Ministry of Magic! — great heavens above — it doesn't seem possible — my word — how can this be?"

"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, apparently satisfied with everything that happened, and walking forward so that the newcomers realized he was there for the first time (a few of them raised their wands, others simply looked amazed; the statues of the elf and goblin applauded and Fudge jumped so much that his slipper-clad feet left the floor), "you will find several escaped Death Eaters including Bellatrix Lestrange contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."

"Dumbledore—but-how can he still be alive?" Fudge stammered.

"I have no time for your foolishness, Cornelius." Dumbledore replied sternly. "You saw what happened here tonight. For the record, you will find Lucius Malfoy down in the Department of Mysteries with one severed leg, and you might also find one of the male Lestranges dead, including scores of death eaters mangled and fallen, I am sure."

Fudge looked flabbergasted.

"Lucius-"

"Is a Death eater, Cornelius." Amelia's voice rang from the crowd. The stern Head of DMLE stood high, though one could see the infirmities on her person caused by the multiple battles she had fought all evening. "You will allow me to do my job, else I will exercise my right as Proxy to the Bones seat and call upon the Ancient Houses to throw you out of the Minister's office."

"And I will support her." Sirius added. Amelia nodded in thanks at him for the gesture.

"Very well," Fudge sighed, knowing very well that given the media outrage that was to follow, he might as well resign just now.

"Director Bones," A fellow Auror spoke out, attracting everyone's interest. "We made a tally of the deaths tonight. Both on ours and theirs."

Amelia stood silent for a moment. "I want to hear about ours first."

"Thirty-seven Aurors and twenty-three hit-wizards were killed in the collective fights since the initial attack. We have lost Kingsley Shacklebolt, Miranda Lance and Emmeline Vance from our senior Auror regiment. Eleven people are severely injured and are being treated at Saint Mungo's at the moment-"

"I will ask Poppy to go and offer aid if required." Dumbledore butted in.

"Thank you Albus," Amelia offered, "you may continue, Fergusson."

The Auror continued. "As for the enemy contingents, we found fifty-two dead inside the Department of Mysteries. All young, recruited death-eaters. I personally checked for the Dark Mark. All of them had it."

Amelia winced. Fifty-two people killed inside the Department of Mysteries. Whatever had happened inside wasn't a war, it was a massacre. She turned to Albus and asked, "Do you know what happened?"

"Miss Daphne Greengrass had been captured from Hogwarts and held hostage so that Harry Potter could be forced to go there and pick up a Prophecy orb from the DOM. As it turns out, it had been a bad move."

"Fifty-two deaths against one person? I am not sure if I should be pleased about it. Mister Potter might face prosecution for this."

"Actually Director," Fergusson spoke out, "From the total count that I had received, Mister Potter has around a hundred and thirteen deaths to his name—a tally which including death eaters, werewolves and vampires."

"Do you really want to arrest Harry Potter for defending himself and saving his betrothed from death eaters, especially when tomorrow's morning newspaper will paint a picture of Voldemort kneeling under his power?"

Amelia winced again. "I am sure that mass outrage will follow if it were to happen."

Dumbledore continued, "Even if you did manage to get him convicted, He holds two Lordships- House Potter and House Black. Plus, he saved the life of the heiress of House Greengrass. The entire thing could be easily played upon using his own fame and the fact that he did it to protect himself and defend the institutions of Saint Mungo's and the Ministry of Magic, when the Ministry's own forces weren't able to do so."

Amelia reddened.

"Anyway, it is all a moot-point," Dumbledore continued. "Harry Potter is an _active_ member of the Transfiguration-Masters Guild. I am sure you understand what that means?"

Amelia's eyes widened. "Honorary license as a War-wizard for ICW."

Dumbledore smiled. "Precisely."

Fergusson spoke again. "The total death toll for the enemy contingent is over a hundred and fifty, Director, with some fifty more severely injured and have been sent to the DMLE cells. Notable mentions among the dead are Rudolphus Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, and the Carrows. Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy were found injured by the Unspeakables, who had taken them in for inspection. They will be released to the DMLE containment cells soon."

"Right." Amelia spoke finally, "get it all recorded and sent to my office." She turned to Sirius who was talking to Alastor Moody who seemed completely bruised and walking with difficulty. "I will need some witnesses for the battle in the Atrium."

"I will do it." Sirius offered.

Amelia turned to Dumbledore. "As for Mister Potter, where- where is he?"

Dumbledore looked uncertain. "I suppose Mister Potter has earned a leave of absence from the madhouse at the moment. I am sure he will be available when we need him."

Amelia sighed.

* * *

 **An hour or an infinity ago…**

"See this, Potter? Do you understand why I am the most feared man on the planet? It was simply a fluke that I had to lose my human self the previous time, but this time, this resurrected form is much more powerful, much less vulnerable and much more sophisticated than ever possible." Lord Voldemort looked at the remains of his broken wand, "—you shouldn't have done that, Potter, Previously I thought I would give you a wizard's death, but now…" He walked up to Harry Potter who looked defiantly at him. The boy was almost falling down but still standing up. "You have been a nuisance for so long, Harry Potter. It is time to end it all." With one devilish smirk, he stepped back and then suddenly strode up and kicked him in the abdomen, hurling him into the veil.

Blinding white light.

Darkness.

Pitch-black darkness.

Light.

Darkness.

Light.

 _Fuck. Where the hell am I?_

He lay face down, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. He was not perfectly sure that he was there himself.

A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to him that he must exist, must be more than disembodied thought, because he was lying, definitely lying, on some surface. Therefore, he had a sense of touch, and the thing against which he lay existed too. Almost as soon as he had reached this conclusion, Harry became conscious that his upper torso was naked. Convinced as he was of his total solitude, this did not concern him, but it did intrigue him slightly. He wondered whether, as he could feel, he would be able to see. In opening them, he discovered that he had eyes.

He lay in a bright mist, though it was not like mist he had ever experienced before. His surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapor; rather the cloudy vapor had not yet formed into surroundings. The floor on which he lay seemed to be white, neither warm nor cold, but simply there, a flat, blank something on which to be. He sat up. His body appeared unscathed. He touched his face.

"Where am I?" He heard himself speak.

"Oblivion. Afterlife. Astral Dimension. The Dimension of Death… pick your choice."

Harry spun to his right, observing the other person, who looked ostensibly similar to him. Then, the memories came back.

"Ignotus."

"In spirit, yes. Congratulations to you, Potter. You have sent us alive and kicking through the Veil of Death."

"What… what do you mean?"

"The Veil… The big curtain thing in the Room, through which your dark lord kicked us into this… realm… The Veil of Death?" Ignotus explaining, his anger lining his tone.

"Yeah, I remember."

Ignotus sneered.

"Good to see that you are still true to yourself even after death." A strangely familiar voice chuckled.

Both Ignotus and Harry spun around, only to stare blankly at the person, and regard the impossibility of it all…

"We meet again, _Peverell_."

Standing in front of them, was the High Priest of the Necromancer's Guild.

"It is good to see the two shards of the Master of Death finally separate themselves. It's about _time_ …"

"Everything about you is about _time_." Ignotus sneered, "stop your double-talk, High Priest. What are you doing beyond the Veil? You are the last person in existence who could be here."

"Direct as always, I always enjoyed the snarky humor you have had, Peverell." The High Priest smiled. "However, you are right. I am apparently the last person you are supposed to meet here. Were you expecting to meet your _contractor?_ Or should I say… your _Master_?"

Ignotus blanched for a moment but said nothing. The High Priest turned towards Harry who seemed to be disturbed with something.

"Something distracting you, Peverell?"

Harry hesitated. "Yes. Where are we? Ignotus says that we are in the Dimension of Death, but its' so…."

"Different? Plain?"

Harry shrugged.

"Would you like it if it looked like-"—the white chamber shifted momentarily and was replaced by the inside of Castle Negrul. It was an exact replica, correct to the Ouroborus engraved on the ceiling and on the floor, just like Harry had seen while at the Castle- "this?"

"Elementary." Ignotus sneered, "the more pressing question would be how you of all men are here in the Dimension of Death?"

"And who am _I_?" The High Priest smiled, looking straight at the two of them. For some reason, Harry felt a shudder down his spine. The unexplainable familiarity about the High Priest began to bug him again.

"The High Priest of Castle Negrul?" Harry offered.

"Both true and false at the same time, _Old friend."_

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

The man lifted off his hood, as Harry found himself staring into the deep green eyes of the individual he knew as the High Priest. "I am Death, the destroyer of worlds."

"You are… _Death?_ " Harry asked, almost skeptical about the entire thing.

Death narrowed his eyes.

"I am sorry if it sounded like that, I mean… you look… like, well human."

"Oh I am sorry; would you like it if I looked like this?" Instantly the chamber dissipated and the two of them found themselves in the midst of a raging inferno with a colossal behemoth, with huge fiery ginormous wings, and claws larger than Harry's own height, staring at them.

"NO NO! IT'S OKAY! WE LIKE IT THE WAY YOU ARE!" Harry yelled in fright.

Instantly the room shifted back to the insides of Castle Negrul, and Death was back in his High-priest persona.

"But… but…" Ignotus stammered, his mind woozy at the impossibility of it all. "how is it possible? The Castle Negrul is always flying in space-time so that Death cannot reach them, and you are saying that you are Death and-"

The High Priest, or rather, Death smirked. "Indeed? Quite a conundrum, isn't it? Imagine that."

"What are we doing here?" Harry exclaimed.

Death turned towards him and fixed him with a stare. "We are here because it's about time that my _hunter_ returns back to fulfill his duties. The two of you have dillydallied it enough to make me take matters into my own hand. It is time the two shards of Ignotus Peverell fuse to become one."

Harry and Ignotus stared at each other with an imperceptible expression.

"How?" Ignotus finally asked, his tone filled with resignation.

"The rule of the veil is very clear. If two souls have passed through it, only one must leave. However, the powers that reside within the veil will not allow you to merge together and cheat the Veil, and therefore, it is an arduous journey ahead. The two of you must support each other and cross the threshold of the Veil."

"How are we going to do that?" Harry asked. "I mean; I don't see any gateway or anything."

Death smiled. "The door to the veil works on the principle of evocation. You must focus on what you want. Currently, your minds are at disarray and hence, have no fixed intentions. If you evocate with the intent of nothing, then nothing is what you will create."

Ignotus sneered. "Potter, focus on going back into the mortal world. Imagine a door on the opposite wall, and it will come."

Harry closed his eyes, and for the first time, both souls focused on one single thought in unison. He felt his surroundings shift, the magics of the dimension changing the room much like some giant Room of Requirement. He opened his eyes, and there it was, a single portal in front of them, around ten feet from where he stood.

"That was easy." He commented.

Death chuckled. "Of course." He drawled. "remember that you both need to pass through it together in unison, else the entire effort would go in vain."

"Wait what do you mean by—?" Harry's words faded midway, as Death was nowhere to be seen. He looked at Ignotus who seemed ready to jump into the portal, as he extended his hand. Ignotus took it, and together they took their first step towards the portal.

That was when the troubles began.

A humongous amount of energy slammed into them, hurling them back by a few feet, the sheer force behind the attack enough to leave them shaken.

"What was that?" Harry asked, looking at his counterpart who was already back on his feet.

"The powers of the Veil do not like it that their rules be broken. It insists on one soul passing through it, and we are trying to go in together."

"Right," Harry muttered, "Why did I think it was going to be easy again?"

Ignotus smirked as he held Harry's hand and the two stepped forward towards the portal, this time ready to face the barrier when it came. And sure it did, slamming into them with a humongous force, the likes of which they had never felt. It seemed like the force was disintegrating their body parts little by little, as they put another step forward. The barrier sent another wave of overwhelming force, bending them down on their knees as they somehow kept holding each other's hands, their innate magics coming for their rescue from the forces of the Veil, forming a defensive dome of magic around them.

Another step.

WHAM!

It was like a herd of elephants and coming forward and knocking them. They had to step back in recoil, but stepped forward again. The forces kept slamming against them, as blood trickled down their noses and their lips, but they went on placing one step after another, one after another, hands tightly bound to each other. Every step they made, it became exponentially difficult to take the next step, and every time they constructed something from their magics to hold against the incoming current, the veil would respond with a force enough to shatter it into splinters. They were now only a couple feet away from the veil, and were barely standing, their innate magic somehow managing to keep them from being flung away.

Ignotus fell on his knees.

"I cannot continue, Potter. You have to continue the journey alone. Take my knowledge, and my skill, cross the veil."

Harry gave him a shocked look. "You are losing hope? You, the greatest Warmage of history, losing against this stupid Veil?" Harry retorted, cringing as somehow the Veil seemed to take offense of his statement and send a rather powerful blast towards them, making him fall on his knees.

Ignotus laughed. "Careful Potter, the Veil understands your words. Do not insult it."

Harry grinned back.

"I am serious, Potter. Take my skill, and cross the veil. I do not have any strength left in me to cross it." Almost as if in unison, the shield around him cracked and Harry felt a devastating force push Ignotus back, but Harry, with the unerring skill of a seeker, pulled him against the current and clenched his hand, making Ignotus hang on over his shoulder.

"HOLD STILL!" He yelled back, the roaring sounds of the energy waves making it difficult to hear anything.

Another step.

 _Just five more._

"I AM NOT GOING TO BE DEFEATED BY THIS STUPID VEIL!" Harry declared, as he raised his magics to form a shield as another wave hit him, shattering it to pieces.

"IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE GOT?" Harry retorted, putting another step.

"POTTER, ARE YOU INSANE?" Ignotus yelled from his back, clutching his shoulders tightly.

Harry grinned. "LITTLE BIT!" He took another step forward.

 _Just two more._

A huge bust of white lightning shot from the horizon of the portal, aiming for Harry, and both of them knew that the energy propagating through it was enough to vaporize them completely.

"POTTER, MOVE AWAY!" Ignotus yelled, but Harry had other intentions. He took a final step forward, and widened his hands apart. The lightning raced towards him, and at the penultimate moment, he converged his hands together, forcing his entire magic to obey his command.

"Wha-ARE YOU-" Ignotus's words died in his throat, as he raised his chin, and witnessed what his counterpart, whom he had always disregarded as weak, had done. There, somehow standing in front of him, was Potter, blocking the entire energy inside a huge vacuum sphere created between his palms. With a guttural cry, Harry used his entire magical reserves to propel the energy upwards, away from him, as he instantly turned and held Ignotus by his arms, and shoved him into the portal. He felt his entire reserves completely empty and found himself slowly falling down, ready to be flung back into oblivion when-

Snikt!

Something had caught him. He slowly opened his eyes, and saw Ignotus somehow standing and clutching him by his left hand.

"Together." The other man said, as Harry somehow stood up from the ground, his determination being the only thing keeping him from falling down and being swept by the Veil.

"Together." He iterated, as he put a final step towards the portal, palms clenching each other, as they put their entire existence on the table as they shoved through the portal.

"TOGETHER!"

* * *

 **Back in the present...**

The young man who was once Harry Potter stood in the middle of the desolate country side, standing on the road which escalated all the way up to the broken bridge atop of a steep ravine, the depths of which sunk down into the ruthless waters that flowed underneath. This was his home, or once was- the entire area had been hidden away from reality by a Death Fidelius, his home, the ravine, the broken bridge and everything, almost as if Fate knew that he would return one day, to take back what was rightfully his own.

The Ancient Manor of the Peverells.

To any other unsuspecting viewer, it would seem more like a fortress than a manor, but for him and his brothers, it had always been one thing.

Their temple of Power. Their sacred altar for surrendering their booty to Mother Magic and growing stronger, fitting their role as protector and destroyer. It was just a point of polarity anyway. One's guardian angel would be seen by the enemy as a demon destroyer. And destroyers they had been- plundering the enemy, annihilating everything but their sources and tomes of magic, and then surrendering control of their booty to Mother Magic and in return, that they would get some of the magic as their own, growing stronger and deadlier, and making sure that the lands of Albion were safe from invaders.

And then it had happened.

The Sharrs. The Sharr invaders attacked Albion, and the Gryffindor contingent fell on the first day. The Sharrs had control over the power to summon demons from the dimension of the Dead, and use their aide to conquer the lands they plundered. They had previously ravaged the distant lands of Peruvia and had not settled their sight on conquering Albion. With the fall of the Gryffindor army, the main line of defense was annihilated. Now it was all up to the three brothers to mitigate the threat standing at the edge of Albion.

It was so surreal, and yet, it was as if it had all happened just yesterday…

 _ **He stood over the edge of the valley, looking down at the burning forests and rampaging invasion obliterating every single obstacle on their way. Though, everything was not what it seemed. Even from this distance, he could plainly observe Antioch severing limbs one after another with his blade, as he used his wand, the epitome of his magical achievement, - to blast his way through the Sharr troops. The three of them had sacrificed their family magic and invoked Mother Magic to help them defeat the Sharrs.**_

 _ **The entire family magic of Peverell, for powering up the three artifacts they had been constructing for years. A wand that would cast true against every spell, making the wielder undefeatable in a direct fight—the pinnacle of battle-magic. A stone that could bring back the souls of the dead and command them to do one's bidding—the pinnacle of necromancy. A cloak that would shield the wearer against every physical spell- the pinnacle of alchemy and charms. Mother Magic had granted their request in return of their family magic to provide these items of unsurmountable power, and tied them to their blood and magic.**_

 _ **Antioch had single-handedly destroyed an entire platoon, comprising of over a hundred mages, and was still fighting five mages at a time, mages who seemed to use every single trick in the book to try overpower him; but the wand—the Deathstick as Antioch lovingly called it, was undefeatable. On the other side, Cadmus had raised an army of inferi to fight against the Sharrs who found themselves surrounded by thousands of the walking-dead, trying to overwhelm them by their sheer quantity. And finally, he Ignotus, stood on the top of the cliff, chanting incantations causing firestorms and hurricanes that lashed down over the Sharrs, after all, elemental powers had always come easily to him. That was the plan- two brothers on two main fronts, and one firing from afar.**_

 _ **Then it happened.**_

 _ **Andros, the chieftain of the Sharrs, raised his hands towards the heavens as he began chanting in their native tongue- lightning tore through the sky, clouds converged all over the plain, as the heavens parted…**_

 _ **The corona of black light formed in the atmosphere, as purple lightning descended down to the earth from it- obliterating the landmass as a demon manifested into existence. Ignotus could only gape with his eyes open at how two demons drove their ginormous claws into Antioch's body, and tear his torso into two, as the wand turned incorporeal from his hand and materialized into Cadmus's, who was technically next in line to acquire it. With the Deathstick in one hand and the stone in other, his mind lost in rage at the loss of his beloved brother, Cadmus willed his entire rage and magic to one single thing- total annihilation. Ignotus could only look in wonder as his normally calm brother let his primal spirit out, the Resurrection stone propelling him to achieve the impossible, as he awakened the spirits of dead creatures- Nundus, basilisks, dragons and wyverns, who took up corporeal form and lashed against the demons. He could only stare as Cadmus single handedly destroyed over twenty demons all by himself and was continuing at full strength.**_

" _ **KILL HIM!" Andros roared, raising his arms in the air as another dozen demons manifested on the land, surrounding Cadmus. Before Ignotus could even understand what had just happened, Cadmus was dead, torn to pieces by the incoming horde of demons who tried their best to get control over the wand and stone but they vanished, only to reappear in Ignotus's hand.**_

 _ **Tears drained from his eyes to see both of his brothers being killed, their bodies being mauled and mutilated by the demons who were now forcing their way towards him, he found the wand in his left hand, along with the stone, while he held his yew wand tightly on the other hand. He had always been the introspective one, not sharing the barbarian aspects of the Warmage personality that his brothers shared. He knew that his brothers took it as his weakness, and hence commanded him to attack from far.**_

 _ **They weren't wrong! Were they? He was weak. At least, far weaker than Antioch or even Cadmus, at least as far as power was concerned. All through his life, his elder brothers had shielded him from attack, him only helping from far, and now… he was the only one of his line against the mighty Sharrs who had just killed his elder brothers, his protectors, his… family.**_

 _ **Rage rose in him like an erupting volcano, and perhaps it was the Warmage magic in his blood, that propelled him from losing all inhibitions and jumping forward to kill the ones who had taken away his family from him. He let all his inhibitions go, as the Deathstick sparked alongside his yew wand, as death and destruction danced the valley. He would kill them, kill them all…**_

* * *

Harry Potter stepped over the edge of the ravine. The steepness of it all, it both exhilarated him and at the same time, repulsed him. This was the place… the place where he had taken the biggest, most significant decision of his life… something that had changed his world and every world in existence…

" _ **They are worthless. I am worthless. They will kill them all like they killed Antioch and Cadmus."**_

 _ **He stared at the wand in his hand- the Alder wood surface a sharp contrast to his yew wand. An undefeatable wand, that had already changed hands three times in a single day… A stone that could raise the dead, changed hands already once, despite its great power… and a cloak that could only make him hide away, like the loser that he was.**_

" _ **I am worthless…" His fingers clenched on the three items in his possession, and for a moment, he looked at them with absolute disdain. He and his brothers had sacrificed their family magic for the three items, and as powerful as they were, they did not help against the Sharrs.**_

" _ **I want to defeat them… I want to kill them all…" He whispered into the night, as he stepped at the precipice of the ravine… His hands raised on either side, his chin raised upwards to the heavens… and he said those words… words which his brothers had warned him never to utter in a lifetime…**_

" _ **I want power, unsurmountable power. Power to defeat and destroy my enemies. Give me the power, and in return, take what you will…."**_

 _ **And then it happened.**_

 _ **The entire area in front of him flooded with eldritch energies, as a black fog settled all around him, a shadowy figure materializing at the end of the broken bridge, floating above the ravine…**_

" _ **Who are you?" He asked.**_

" _ **I am Death. The Destroyer of worlds. You settled on a deal with me, and I have come to accept it." The figure had a disembodied voice, which sent shudders down his spine.**_

" _ **What- what do you mean?"**_

 _ **The figure descended towards him. "I can give you the power you want, son of Peverell. I can give you the power you desire to annihilate your enemies…"**_

" _ **And? What is it you ask in return?" Ignotus asked, his fists clenching.**_

 _ **Death smiled. "A hunter. My personal bounty hunter."**_

" _ **What…. What does that mean?"**_

 _ **Death slowly drew closer to him, the shadowy figure now getting more and more corporeal and solid with every passing second…**_

" _ **You wanted power, and I will give you that. Accept my offer and you will have a power you have never known. In return, you shall be my hunter for several thousand years from now, until it is time for your next great adventure..."**_

" _ **What does that entail?"**_

 _ **Death smiled. "The powers that be, do not allow me to interfere in the mortal realms, allowing necromancers and wizards to use forbidden magics to steal away their lives from me. Your job will be to clean the slate in my absence."**_

" _ **Let me get this straight." Ignotus replied with slight reluctance. "You want me… of all people, the weakest of all Warmages of the Peverell name, to go on, killing evil wizards and monsters for millennia, when I cannot even kill my own enemy at present? I am sure you have got the wrong Peverell."**_

 _ **Death chuckled. " Humans… annoyingly stubborn for all eternity." Ignoring the frown on Ignotus's face, the dark shadowy persona drifted very close to him. "Yes, that is my offer."**_

" _ **And how am I going to do that?"**_

 _ **The three items floated out of his hands, as Death stroked the Deathstick with what seemed to be a skeletal hand. The wand glowed purple, as the hilt transfigured from a regular handle into a skull. The stone, it levitated in front of Ignotus, all the while glowing with a multitude of colors, as eldritch energies from Death's body into the stone, until the diamond-shaped stone turned into a larger, octagonal form. The cloak shifted from its usual drape-form into a standard cloak, turning much thicker, and losing its velvety texture.**_

" _ **What did you do to them?" Ignotus asked hesitantly.**_

" _ **I added my own essence to them. Now, they are linked to me… they are holy for the generations of necromancers to come. I suppose... they are my Hallows, now. Using the three Hallows together, you will be able to channel my energies into your own mortal self, and use it to finish your duties as my hunter." The cloak flew back and settled over Ignotus's shoulders, billowing like a cape, the hood levitating up to hide his face. The wand floated off to his left hand, while his faithful yew wand remained on his right hand. Death fashioned a pendant out of the mist surrounding him, and Ignotus could see it studded with rubies and emeralds. The frontal end looked like some kind of lock, like some intricately and exquisitely carved golden exoskeleton, with an inner cavity inside it. The pendant floated towards him, as he reluctantly accepted it.**_

" _ **For the stone…"**_

 _ **Ignotus nodded. He willed the stone to himself, and almost in response, the stone drifted towards the pendant, and almost in unison, the exoskeleton opened up, allowing the stone to enter the inner cavity, and instantly, the skeleton closed into itself, locking the stone inside it, making the stone glow brightly with a shade of purple. He held the pendant and wore it around his neck, his entire body brimming with a strange sense of energy. He could feel his nerves flaring with a strange energy, the likes of which he had never felt.**_

" _ **Welcome, my hunter." Death smiled. "You are now the Master of the Deathly Hallows, and by extension, the master of your own death. Until your contract is over, you cannot die."**_

" _ **I am Ignotus Peverell. The Master of my death, and now, I will bring death to everyone who killed my family." Ignotus muttered. He looked up towards the divine entity before him. "Cadmus always told me stories about Death having a horse, taking him to places he cannot go by his own. I don't see any."**_

 _ **Death smiled behind his hood. "I do have one. His name is Ignotus Peverell."**_

* * *

"Seems so confusing, doesn't it, Peverell?"

Harry spun back at the familiar tone, and found the high priest of Castle Negrul standing behind him. He narrowed his eyes.

"Death?" He worded warily.

The man chuckled. "I suppose the entire process must have addled your brains. Me and Him? You do remember that the entire point behind Castle Negrul is to _flee from Him_ , right?"

Harry Potter, or rather, Ignotus Peverell looked at him in confusion. "I-" he paused, "I mean, when I was divided, we- saw you there behind the veil, and you said that you were Death, the destroyer of worlds."

The High Priest almost shuddered at the fact.

"Perseus Trimegistus, tell me, what is the truth?" Ignotus pressed.

The High Priest looked at him calmly. "I am not the one you speak of, Ignotus Peverell. I am Perseus Trimegistus, the High Priest and _slave of Negrul_. I am your old friend."

"But-" Ignotus tried.

"I believe I have an idea about what might have happened, though-", he stopped as he chuckled, "the idea is based from a children's story book. The Tales of Beadle the Bard."

"A story book? You have a story about the Hallows?"

Perseus chuckled. "Yes, imagine that."

"Very well," Ignotus sighed. "Out with it."

Perseus smiled. "You can read it later. The point is that the third brother, that is you, met… _HIM_ like an old friend, I can imagine that would be the reason why that entity met you in that form."

"He showed us Castle Negrul."

Trimegistus almost paled at the implication.

"He is drawing near, I suppose it is time for you to leave, isn't it?"

Perseus smiled. "You know me, quite well, old friend. However, I brought this for you." He took out a golden pendant from within his robes, one identical to the one he had previously handed over when Harry had been to Negrul.

"Wha- where did you get this?"

Perseus smiled. "I live in a castle that floats in time, remember? We knew you would need it even if it might have gotten lost inside the veil."

Ignotus fixed him with a blank stare. "You took the pendant out of time? The very pendant that held the resurrection stone for centuries? It is obvious why _He_ is nearing you."

"You needed it, old friend." The man replied. "Besides, it is little, compared to what _you did for me_ all that time ago."

Ignotus smiled, taking the pendent from his hands. It glowed as he put it over his neck. "The stone… I need to find it."

The smile on Perseus's lips faded. "It has been bound by magics forbidden to necromancers. I cannot even travel near it, and you know why. Even being close to the Deathstick makes me feel uncomfortable."

"I… _understand_."

"Find the stone, Peverell, and reunite the Hallows. Finish your duty. And remember, you are both Harry Potter and Ignotus Peverell. You have a past, a present and a future to adjust to."

"Yeah about that," Ignotus exclaimed. "I certainly cannot go on using a made-up family name. Antioch could slap me right and left if I ever abandoned the Peverell name. At the same time, my mother in this time, named me Harry Potter, and I will be damned if I do not choose the name she chose for me as my identity."

"So what did you decide?" Perseus asked, a thin smile lining his lips.

"Well, I cannot be a Potter, and I cannot lose my first name, so I suppose… Harry Peverell."

"Sounds old fashioned."

"I _am_ old-fashioned."

"Very well, Myrrdin's blessings be upon you, Harry Peverell."


	43. Chapter 43 : Aftermath

**Previously on Defiance…**

 _"Yeah about that," Ignotus exclaimed. "I certainly cannot go on using a made-up family name. Antioch could slap me right and left if I ever abandoned the Peverell name. At the same time, my mother in this time, named me Harry Potter, and I will be damned if I do not choose the name she chose for me as my identity."_

 _"So what did you decide?" Perseus asked, a thin smile lining his lips._

 _"Well, I cannot be a Potter, and I cannot lose my first name, so I suppose… Harry Peverell."_

 _"Sounds old fashioned."_

 _"I am old-fashioned."_

 _"Very well, Myrrdin's blessings be upon you, Harry Peverell."_

* * *

Peverell Manor was dilapidated, that much was sure. But then again, this was the only thing that belonged to 'Harry Potter' by rights of inheritance. Yes, there was the Black Manor out there in London too, but it was Sirius's by rights of blood until he decided to pass it on. Potter Manor had already been destroyed in the first war, as had the cottage at Godric's Hollow. That just left this place…. An ancient temple on whose floors he had grown up alongside his two brothers in a different lifetime, in a world unknown to the modern witches and wizards.

He briefly contemplated on his near future and tried to put everything together. Being Death's hunter had a lot more in it than having all sorts of devastating powers and exterminating dark wizards and witches… there was a set of rules he had to abide by, rules that had existed for him and every other hunter before him, and would continue to exist for the ones who would succeed him to take up the mantle.

" _The powers that be, do not allow me to interfere in the mortal realms, allowing necromancers and wizards to use forbidden magics to steal away their lives from me. Your job will be to clean the slate in my absence…"_

Of course, the rules of the Realm of death were irrevocable and unbreakable, and yet, the problem was that he had already broken the rules once before… for an old friend, and as a result, the world had fallen more vulnerable to the forces of darkness, and here he was, newly merged into his true form, devoid of his true powers, and facing powerful threats…

He briefly contemplated on the recent events that had happened. A part of him couldn't help but wince at how the two soul shards had made a mess out of everything. Being Death's hunter was being a lone wolf for an entire existence. Harry Potter had gone ahead and betrothed himself to someone. On the other hand, being Death's hunter meant to keep one's powers hidden and under a tight leash, never using it for one's own benefit… His soul shard from the wand had gone ahead and done exactly that.

Two soul shards. One signifying his compassion, and holding all of his raw power. The other, his ruthless self, holding all of his knowledge. Compassion would not allow the reborn soul to use his power for evil, and the lack of power would keep his ruthless soul shard from committing acts of unspeakable evil. He had never anticipated that his two soul shards would reunite, only to end up hating each other and creating an over-emotional form lacking in self-worth, and the other being a blood-thirsty warlord. One had bound himself in bonds whose true significance he would never understand; and the other had done a number and exterminated people as if they were a meaningless speck in an indifferent universe. And now, he would have to clean up the entire mess and start afresh.

But Daphne? What about her? He might not be the Harry Potter he was, but Harry Potter was still in him. Besides, he was Harry Potter for the girl. He had loved her as Harry Potter, and he knew that the girl loved him back, if a little melodramatic at times. The bonds of love were sacred, and he couldn't break them to return himself to the lone wolf that he was.

 _I have to get the Resurrection stone, and unite the Hallows. That will at least, get me my powers back. And then, I will have to exterminate the necromancer Grindelwald and this dark lord Voldemort for good. Horcruxes, really? Out of all the ways of manipulating soul magic, the bastard had to just go for horcruxes? That was like painting a BIG sign for the Hunter, yelling out from the cliff, -'I am here, come and get me!'_

He shook his head. He would have to get rid of the abominations, and he would have to do so neatly, making sure that those vile things did not leave behind any kind of material effects behind. The Locket was destroyed, as was the diary. The soul shard residing in his scar was gone as well. So that left behind four.

Four more soul shards, and one of them, held the Resurrection stone trapped inside the shell. It drove him nutters.

Then there was the necromancer. Fleeing from Seth, and using counter measures and vile magic to conceal himself from the hound of Hell.

 _I wonder if he knows that Seth wouldn't step in a timeline where there is a Hunter present._

He sighed.

 _So much contamination… and now I have to clear it all. So much because I dared break the rules of Death… And above all, I made a pact with a Guild and the Nagas. I wonder if Albus Dumbledore truly knows about the ancient laws surrounding the pacts made by an initiate when he surrendered himself as an apprentice to a Guild… If he knew he would never have had perhaps…_

"Enjoying the scenery, hunter?"

Harry spun around to find himself facing the bright hazel eyes of James Potter. His first instinct was to mutter out 'Dad' but the 'hunter' address was a complete giveaway. His eyes narrowed as he composed himself.

"Death…"

James Potter smiled. "I never understood the human need to display emotions at every turn." He scoffed. "However, that is moot and not important. Are you having fun trying to reassemble the mess that had gathered in your absence?"

"If you are here to give me a pity-talk then-"

"On the contrary, Hunter," James smiled, and Harry sensed a feral look behind his eyes. It was devouring, powerful, and strangely intoxicating. "—or should I address you as _Harry Peverell_ , I am… not, as you stated, to give you a pity-talk. I am here to remind you of your oaths and duties to the realm of Death." His form straightened as he pulled himself to his fullest height. "Because of your… _affection_ for your friend, you broke the very law you were supposed to enforce, and you saw how it all ended. I am here to remind you not to commit another mistake all over again."

"What do you-? -"

"See you later, Harry Peverell." James Potter cut him midway, before dissipating away.

 _Damn…_

There were too many chains. Too many promises and bindings all around him. He would have to work through each of them individually. And it would all begin by taking back his life.

He had to return to the very place where a very important item lay in patient wait for him for a very, very long time.

* * *

An excerpt from the Daily Prophet the next day…

 **DARK LORD YOU-KNOW-WHO ALIVE!**

 **DEADLY DANCE OF DEATH STRIKES BRITAIN!**

 **HARRY POTTER DEFEATS YOU-KNOW-WHO AND FORCES HIM TO KNEEL!**

Tracy held the paper in her hands as her eyes glued over the headlines. Beside her, Astoria snuggled up to see it too. Neither of them had any care about the nasty face that Pansy Parkinson made towards them. After Harry Potter had left, she had been the one, with slight aid from Goyle and Crabbe, to carry Draco all the way to the Hospital wing. The nurse had mentioned that he might never be able to walk without a prosthesis, but at least he was alive. Potter had severely injured her boyfriend and fiancé, and she was dying to curse the boy to next year and back. Poor Draco was probably still lying on the hospital bed in pain.

"A hundred and fifty-two dead, including death eaters, vampires and werewolves… damn, this is going to shake things up a lot." Astoria commented. Pansy felt bile in her throat. Her father was a supporter of the dark lord, and for a moment, she couldn't help but exchange worried glances with some others within the House.

"Rudolphus Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, Alecto-" Tracy paused, casting a quick glance at the Carrow twins who sat silently, too silent in her opinion- "-Carrow, were the ones found dead within the Department of Mysteries. Lucius Malfoy, famed philanthropist and Wizengamot member, was found unconscious and missing a leg. Notorious Mass-murderer Bellatrix Lestrange was also found stunned by the Ministry Aurors in one of the secret rooms inside the Department of Mysteries. Damn, Potter made a bloody massacre down there."

"Daphne was down there too, don't forget." Astoria chided her.

Tracy ignored it. Her eyes were glued to the striking image that held the entire breath of the second half of the first-page, with You-know-who kneeling down on the floor with Harry freaking Potter of all people standing and raising his wand in front of him.

"Harry Potter forces the dark lord to kneel! Damn! I wonder if Harry will allow me to take a picture of him now!" One of the Creeveys commented from the Gryffindor table. Tracy returned to the rest of the page, reading the official statement from the Ministry that was written below the massive cover picture.

 **HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS**

 **In a brief statement Friday night, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be Named has returned to this country and is active once more. "It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord — well, you know who I mean — is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe that the dementors are currently taking direction from Lord — Thingy. We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defense that will be delivered free to all Wizarding homes within the coming month."**

"DUH!" commented Astoria. Tracy looked smug as she continued…

" **The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the Wizarding community, which as recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was "no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumors that You-Know-Who is operating amongst us once more."**

 **Details of the events that led to the Ministry turnaround are still hazy, though it is believed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to the Ministry of Magic itself on Thursday evening. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was unavailable for comment last night. He has insisted for a year that You-Know-Who was not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile the Boy Who Lived —**

"So he is the Boy-who-lived once more?" Astoria demanded.

"You should see what they have written, Tori," Tracy showed her the sidebars. Written in bold, were the words… ' _A lone voice of truth…perceived as unbalanced, yet never wavered in his story…_ _forced to bear ridicule and slander.'_

Astoria almost giggled. "They are going to fall backwards to appease him. Daphne is going to get a laugh."

"Did you see her this morning?" Tracy asked.

"Nope."

"Then, let's go now… I don't suppose Potter made it back to the school?"

"Dint see him yet. Daphne hasn't talked to anyone since, well, since she came back to consciousness. Merlin knows what might have happened with her after her-you know-" she replied.

Astoria gave her an understanding nod.

* * *

"For the final time, Albus," Sirius exclaimed with frustration, "Tell me what the hell happened there at the Ministry, and why is Harry absent? Where is he, and why are you bent on keeping me away from finding him?"

Dumbledore sighed. He looked at Sirius in the eye and replied, "Voldemort bound him using dark magic, and tortured him. Harry somehow broke free of the bonds, and blasted Tom's wand and wand-hand, but in doing so, used up his entire magical power." He paused, before he continued, "Tom—he, kicked Harry into the Veil."

"The- Veil?" Sirius stuttered.

Albus sighed. "Harry fell through the veil, and despite that, the prophecy marking him as the one with the power to defeat Voldemort did not turn cold, and just as expected, no matter how impossible, Harry returned back from the Veil."

"But that's- that's impossible. You know how dangerous wizards are flung through the veil if they are deemed too dangerous to be kept in Azkaban."

"I know, but what I said is also true. Harry Potter returned back from the Veil."

Sirius did not know what to say.

"However, that is not the important part."

"The fuck is it not- what the hell could be more important than that?" Sirius exclaimed.

Albus walked towards the window, overlooking Hagrid's hut. "After he returned through the Veil, he was changed. He completely demolished Tom's power and blasted him through the walls, right onto the atrium. You know what he did after that."

"He made him kneel."

"Right. Harry Potter, made Lord Voldemort kneel. His power… it was something else. When I asked him if he was all right, he claimed that he wasn't Harry Potter."

"What—what are you talking about?"

Dumbledore looked at Sirius with sadness etched over his face. "He said his name was Ignotus Peverell."

Sirius just stared at him.

* * *

Harry Peverell slowly walked across the dusty grounds of Godric's Hollow, the cloak hiding him and his magic effectively just like it always had. He dredged alongside the little church that stood like a lone beacon, past the muddy street into the graveyard. While a part of him wanted to go and visit the very cottage in which he had grown up, and had lost his parents, his feet were destined for somewhere else. He unlocked the gate and entered the little magical graveyard behind the church. Walking across the rows, he saw tombs of people known and unknown, and then finally there was the one he was looking for.

 **Ignotus Peverell**

He knelt down, as he touched the surface of the tombstone. The little engraving on the surface, the strange symbol of a triangle with a straight line and a circle inscribed within it, began to glow at his touch with an eldritch sheen, and in less than a few seconds, the entire tomb disintegrated into dust, leaving behind just one single chasm in its place. He picked the chasm out of the tombstone, unlocking it with his magic, sighing as he gazed at one of the very weapons that made him Death's Hunter. The very thing that was also, somewhat responsible for the events that had led to his demise all those ages ago.

 _The Shackles of Doom._

He contemplated silently. The Deathstick, to send souls to their afterlife. The stone, to summon the dead to obey his will. The cloak, to carry out his mission without being noticed by Seth and the powers that be. And finally. The shackles of doom to capture those who slip through the clutches of the realm of death and drag them back to the pits of Hell- a mantle he had taken up when he had accepted the contract with Death, a contract he was going to have to keep fulfilling until his time had come.

 _I need to find the stone._

He closed his eyes, and radiated his senses. His magic emerged out of him, and radiated outward, merging with the atmosphere all around him as it radiated in all directions, trying to scan anything and everything in hope that it could give him an inkling about the stone. For some reason, he could not sense Voldemort's aura, a fact that troubled him greatly, since no amount of powerful wards could keep him from tracing a Dark Wizard should he set his eyes to him.

This was indeed troubling... very, very troubling. He could swear that he had been able to sense the necromancer some hours ago, but now... it was almost as if there was some kind of veil that was protecting the two, hiding them from his senses. This wasnt natural, there was only one thing that could hide Death's gaze and that was through his own invisibility cloak.

 _Something is wrong. Very, very wrong._

He considered the situation. Perhaps Albus Dumbledore would be able to help him in this regard- a fact that drew a frown on his face. Harry Potter already had been shackled inside several bonds, and now once again, he was finding himself asking for help to the Headmaster. While it didnt matter to Harry Potter, the same couldnt be said for Death's Hunter. A favor was a favor- and he couldnt help but wonder what Albus Dmumbledore would ask of him in return for his help.

Then again, he didnt quite have access to his powers. Perhaps the absence of the Resurrection Stone was hindering his powers more than he had thought possible. He would need to figure out where it was, and find it, purify it, and take up the mantle of the Master of the Hallows once again. Untill then, the Dark bastard was temporarily safe.

* * *

"Is the dark lord…" Severus left the question incomplete, as the irritated countenance of Augustus Rookwood was a more than enough descriptive than what he might consider adequate.

"That bad, huh?"

"Stop with your wit, Snape. Ever since the battle, the dark lord has been… different. His…" Rookwood looked around as he whipped a powerful privacy ward, "-he has been different. The way the newspapers have shown his defeat at the hands of… you know," he paused, swallowing, before he continued, "he is not taking it well. He has been inside the ritual chamber ever since then, doing stuff I have no idea about. But I do know one thing- that cloak of his, it is releasing some very, powerful, eldritch energies, the likes of which I have never felt during my career in the Department of Mysteries… there is something… primal and horrifying about the cloak, something that defies any humane logic, something I cannot explain. I do not know why, but I have this weird feeling that the damned cloak is more harm than good."

"And the dark lord?"

"Did not step out of the ritual chamber ever since the battle. I wonder how things will turn up, but trust me on this Snape. If the cloak is involved, as I fear it will, I fear the results might just go way beyond mere fucked up, both for us and the wizarding world."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Updated and modified on November 5, 2017.**


	44. Chapter 44 : Truths and Mysteries

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I made some changes in the previous chapter about Harry's duties as Death's Hunter. Please re-read the previous chapter before reading this, to avoid any confusion. Thank you.**

* * *

 **Previously on Defiance…**

 _"And the dark lord?"_

 _"Did not step out of the ritual chamber ever since the battle. I wonder how things will turn up, but trust me on this Snape. If the cloak is involved, as I fear it will, I fear the results might just go way beyond mere fucked up, both for us and the wizarding world."_

* * *

The wards of Hogwarts shimmered momentarily as a mysterious energy seeped through its' layers of wards, passing through the ancient barriers effortlessly, tearing its way down on to the Quidditch pitch, causing the entire area to be covered in a miniature dust storm. The students could see from the corridors as Harry Potter, stood on the Quidditch pitch, his eyes focussed on the Headmaster's office window. Even from this distance, he could clearly see Albus Dumbledore standing up at the window to his office, staring at him silently. Harry batted an eyelid, and he was gone, transporting himself instantly into the Headmaster's office. Whether it was apparition or something else, no one could say, since the anti-apparation wards of Hogwarts did nothing to stop his traversal.

"Harry…" Albus Dumbledore breathed, before correcting himself, "I am sorry, I mean, Ignotus, if that is your name, I suppose?" He stared at the young man who had suddenly appeared in front of him.

"I am Harry Potter, born to James and Lily Potter in 1980. I am also Ignotus Peverell, high priest of the Peverell clan." Harry stated, somewhat imperiously.

Dumbledore felt his hands slowly move around, find support on the table, as he felt himself sit down. Somehow, the movement eased the feeling of anxiety rising within him. It was almost as if watching a dream come true, only in the most unexpected and unbelievable sort of way…

"Ignotus Peverell… I mean, _the Ignotus Peverell?_ Brother to Cadmus and Antioch?"

Harry nodded slowly. "My brothers, yes."

"The Master of the Deathly Hallows?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. He knew that Dumbledore had held ownership of the Elder wand for decades, and even though the wand would only truly work for him and him alone, it still remembered Albus Dumbledore and how he had never really fallen to the temptations of the wand.

"Yes."

"That is so… surprising, but also, exciting and almost… terrifying in so many ways… I am uncommitted." Dumbledore confessed, as he stared into the grey eyes of the boy standing in front of him. "I would very much wish to know about how this came to exist, this… fusion of souls across space and time, if you could tell me…"

"Professor Dumbledore…" Harry considered for a moment, "I know it's a little confusing, but it's me. I mean, I'm still Harry, or at least, a part of me still is. There is also another part of me, one belonging to Ignotus Peverell, my name in another life. Both memories are now a part of me now."

"I... see."

"As for why and how, I am not sure if it would be for the best if you were privy to that kind of information. The truth, as you well know, is a powerful and terrible thing, and must be treated with great caution."

Dumbledore held back a retort, finding the young man in front of him throw his own words at his face. Then again, this was not just the fifteen-year-old that he knew and taught; this was also a near-ageless entity whose knowledge and experience spanned over horizons he himself could never even imagine.

"I completely understand, however- you must understand that it is important for me to know where and what you stand for, now that you are _more than Harry Potter."_

Harry's eyes glanced towards the bookshelf, his eyes perusing the old tomes on the shelves- so many developments must have happened over the years in the magical arts—things about which he had no idea about. Perhaps the apprenticeship to the Guild wouldn't even be such a bad thing, _academically speaking,_ of course.

"I am the Master of the Hallows of Death, and am _her_ … employee, should you call it." Was Death a _his_ or a _her?_ Perhaps it was a fool's errand to try distinguish such entities in terms of human frames.

"Death's… employee?"

"In a fashion. My employer… for reasons, cannot tinker with the mortal world directly, and thus, does so, through me. I am what, you might call, an extension of her presence, into the mortal world, doing things according to Her will."

"And what exactly do you do?"

"Hunt." Harry answered simply. "I am a hunter. Death's personal bounty hunter, catching the ones that try to flee from her clutches. Death is universal, and comes for all. I am simply the enforcer."

Dumbledore's left hand found its way towards his seat, as he slid down, sagging onto the comfort of the chair, as his right hand held the table before him for support. This was all too supernatural, too fantastic, and yet, it did simply some… curiosities that he had had, over a long time.

"Voldemort… you are here to catch him. Are you not?"

"It's not so… simple. My presence is… nearly eternal, at least until the termination of my contract. Some… situations caused me to force my own demise back then, and now, I have been reborn. One might say that it is because this is the time when the rules of Death are being broken more than they ever have been- to be honest, I do not know for sure."

"But you will catch him." Dumbledore stressed.

"I will, but before that, I- need to take care of certain… issues." Harry stared at Dumbledore in the eye. "For certain reasons, I am at a loss when it comes to finding a certain artefact, for which I need your help."

"Of course." Dumbledore promised. If what Harry-Ignotus was saying, then it was of the highest priority for all of them as well. "What do you need?"

Harry considered the question. "I need to find out the Resurrection Stone."

…

…

…

"The… _the Resurrection stone?"_

"The very same. The other Hallows are with me, as you well know. I thank you for returning what is mine to me without any ill will, and applaud you for not falling into the temptations of my willy Deathstick."

"I just wanted to use it for protection. To tame it, and keep it away from prying eyes." Dumbledore muttered softly.

Harry nodded. "My senses tell me that Voldemort converted my stone into a horcrux, and thus, it is essential that we find it."

Dumbledore looked alarmed. "If it has indeed been converted into a horcrux, it needs to be destroyed, and Fiendfyre wouldn't-"

"The Fiendfyre is of no concern. I need to find it." Harry retorted.

"But, we did not mark the Stone as one of our potential possibilities as horcruxes." Dumbledore mused, "—perhaps, we need to reanalyse the information we have on them." His eyes lit up with a thought as he looked at Harry, "—There is one thing that could be done, though."

"And that is?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"From what it seemed, your powers overwhelm Tom's by a considerable extent. Couldn't you use your powers to sense Tom out?"

"You want me to find Tom Riddle out and beat the knowledge of the Stone out of him?" Harry asked, almost surprised that the venerable wizard was opting for such a brawn tactic.

"It's an idea." Dumbledore quipped. "Slightly brawn-ish, I fear, but it could work, considering everything."

Harry sighed. "As good as it could be, it is not applicable. I have not been able to _sense_ them since some time ago."

"A Fidelius, perhaps?"

"A location-based Fidelius hides a person's presence, not his existence." Harry corrected. "I should have been able to sense their magical essence, Fidelius or not. There is something, that is masking _their_ magic, not unlike my own Cloak of invisibility."

Dumbledore did not know whether to be exhilarated or mortified, that an item existed beyond the Deathly hallows, that could create a similar effect as the third Hallow. The idea of Voldemort in possession of such an artefact, was troubling indeed.

"Although, I must admit, my knowledge of magic is archaic at best, and there might be something invented after my… demise, in the modern world, that could help you find it." Harry explained. "My knowledge of modern magic is limited to whatever I have learnt as Harry Potter, and there are quite a number of things that I did not initially know."

"I will see what I can do. Perhaps I could actively search for the… Stone if you could take over and guard the castle in my absence?" Dumbledore offered.

"That would be a good idea." Harry agreed, before pausing for a moment. "I would like you to keep my true identity secret, Professor Dumbledore. Another thing- I wish you to know, is that I am dissolving the House of Potter and revitalizing the ancient House of Peverell. Harry Potter I might be, but it would be wrong for me not invoke my own _true_ House instead of a made-up name."

"Harry…"

"Peverell. Harry Peverell. If nothing else, Professor…" He waited for a moment for the old man to shake his head in denial, as he _shifted_ away, vanishing away from the office.

* * *

Amelia Bones sat in her office, poring through one file after another- the incident at the Department of Mysteries had hit Magical Britain hard, especially her own Department. The fact that the Dark Lord was now officially _back from the dead,_ had made Cornelius Fudge bend to her wishes to enlist more volunteers for temporary Auror-corps, as well as get a significant funding for her Department. The fact that Harry Potter had _butchered_ over a hundred Death eaters back there in the department hadn't helped matters either.

 _At least the public opinion is on Potter's side, what with the Dark Lord being spotted publicly. At least Fudge sways in the direction of mass opinion._

She had lost Shacklebolt in the battle. For all of his flaws, the man was one sturdy Auror, and was dependable where it mattered. Emmeline Vance was another loss- she was a rather good hit-witch, with a commendable take-down quotient. The fights all across Britain had miraculously ended in a positive manner, with the number of losses on the Ministry side being very insignificant compared to the Dark Lord's forces- a phenomen0n that had turned out only due to the intervention of one single person whom the public was now regarding as a _messiah_ of some sorts.

Harry Potter.

"Fergusson reporting." A disembodied voice echoed from one of the crystal, spherical communicators on her desk.

"Report." She barked.

"Dementors have left Azkaban, Director. The Warden confirms that there is not a single dementor left to guard the prisoners there."

Amelia sighed. It was almost expected. The treaty between the Dementor population and the Ministry of Magic was on shaky grounds either way. In the previous war, the Dementors had broken the treaty to join on Voldemort's side, although with the events of Halloween 1981, they had been back to Azkaban before any serious actions could be taken against them. This time though, things didn't seem similar. Even when they had sided with the Dark Lord, they hadn't left the cursed island- something that was enough to cause a frown on her face.

"There has been another report, Director. A huge contingent of vampire population has been vanishing all across the continent."

 _First dementors, and now vampires. What is wrong with the natural order of things?_

"Anything else?" Amelia questioned.

"Nothing of priority, Director." Fergusson returned, before cutting off communication.

Amelia sighed. Her secretary Samantha had sent in a letter earlier, claiming that Albus Dumbledore had summoned an emergency session in the Wizengamot due the next day- in all possibility, to legalise efforts against the Dark Lord. She would have to consult with the Headmaster about the issues beforehand. Maybe Potter's presence could aid in passing the bill faster.

 _After all this is over, I am taking a year-long vacation to the Caribbean._

* * *

 **In an unplottable location in Little Hangleton…**

"What do you mean our vampire stronghold has vanished?" An irate Rookwood asked, as Travers looked down, unable to look at the ex-Unspeakable in the face.

"Answer me!"

"I don't know, sir. The entire vampire community who had promised us support have vanished overnight. It's almost like they and the Dementors planned to duck out together."

"What do you mean?"

The other death eater looked up in confusion. "The Dementors have done the same, they have vanished from Azkaban. The Ministry has been in a fury since then."

"That's… disturbing. And the Transylvanian community?"

"Absent. It seems like the vampires and the dementors all across Europe have vanished away overnight. Even some of the werewolf packs are showing signs of unrest."

"Is this… because of the defeat of the Dark Lord?" Rookwood asked slowly.

Travers shook his head. "Greyback has been having a tough time, controlling them. From what Lord Nott told me, they are angered by something… some kind of phenomenon. Something is causing them to run underground in clusters… Some of the ones that are still sticking around are…. they are afraid of being… _hunted._ "

"Hunted? By whom?"

Travers shook his head. "I don't know, sir."

 _First Vampires, then dementors and now werewolves… why are the dark creatures behaving this way? If all of them disappear on us like this, we will lose two-thirds of our army. The Dark Lord will be furious._

Rookwood glanced towards the north-eastern wing of the manor- the ritual chamber, to be precise.

 _Scratch that, he will skin me alive._

"Bring me one of Greyback's people. Ask Nott to come, meet me. I need to control this… erratic behaviour before it goes out of hand." Rookwood commanded, motioning Travers that it was his cue to leave.

* * *

Harry Potter slowly materialised in front of the grand, white edifice that was Gringotts, the most magnificent building in the entire Diagon Alley. His _newer_ memories didn't really have too much information about Gringotts—except for Nagnok, who was not really a part of the banking foundation. The one, rare interaction with his Vault manager was the only thing that really came to mind.

 _Hopefully it wouldn't be asking for too much._

In his other life, goblins were nasty, territorial creatures who collected gold and other shiny metals, and hoarded it in their caves. The only interaction they had with wizards was during the invasions and random attacks between the two species. How such a species had morphed into becoming the financial pillar of modern wizard society was beyond him. He remembered Nagnok, who had been especially helpful in ways more than one- a goblin like that was beyond imagination back in his original life. Back then, finding a goblin meant a preparation for fight at best, and a total battle at worst. Now though….

He stared at the two goblin guards standing on either side of the cavernous door, glittering with decorations, and engravings all over them. He could see the columns of teller stations from the outside. He took a deep breath.

 _When in Rome…_

* * *

 **Hogwarts' Hospital Wing.**

Daphne sat on her bed, as she served herself to treacle tart, that her sister had smuggled in for her from the kitchens. The nurse was nowhere, and it was a perfect opportunity for her to serve herself to something that felt more… _satisfying_ beyond the _frustrating but edible_ nutrient soup that Pomfrey had recommended for her. Tracy and Astoria were sitting in chairs just beside her, watching their best friend gulp in the dish in the most unladylike manner. Daphne had been through a lot recently, what with losing her father, and then getting possessed by that… locket, and then getting kidnapped and possibly tortured. It was almost a miracle that she retained enough sanity as it was. The fact that she was yet able to live through it all and try to enjoy the smaller things in life was a testament to her mental strength.

"Where is Harry?"

The sudden question from Daphne shook Tracey out of her thoughts. He's…. well, to be honest, I don't know. Haven't seen him since…" She discontinued her words… Harry had yet to be seen after he had sprinted off, leaving Malfoy paralysed and half-dead in the Slytherin common room.

"He's… with Dumbledore, probably. I don't know." Tracey replied truthfully.

"Have you seen him?" Daphne asked seriously, eyeing her friend.

"No." Tracy admitted with a frown.

"He came back from the dead." Daphne spoke in a monotone, "Harry came back."

"What do you mean?" Astoria pegged.

"They… the Dark Lord… he threw Harry through the Veil, and said that he died. Even Dumbledore said he died." Her eyes suddenly became cold and almost devoid of emotion. "Harry was already defeated, but then he used up everything he had to save me, and then the Dark Lord… Voldemort, he threw him through the Veil."

Tracy gasped, her hands moving up to her mouth automatically. Astoria's reaction was similar.

"Then he came back." Daphne continued, her weird monotone still continuing, "-he came back, and defeated Voldemort. He didn't- he didn't see me after that."

"Daphne-", Tracy began.

"Do you think he resents me?" Daphne asked, "It was because of me that he lost initially, and because of me that he was there in the first place."

"Daph, that's no right. You know Harry would never-"

"How would you know?" Daphne continued, her tone filled with self-resentment.

"Because I don't blame you," floated in Harry Potter's voice, from the doorway.

"Harry-"

"I'm here," Harry answered, a little unsure of himself. His relationship with Daphne had been through a lot of strains this year, most of which had been his own fault, and the other- a series of coincidences. No one could have ever foreseen Daphne coming in contact with the locket Horcrux- he still remembered the changes he had seen in her after her had returned from the Guild. That calm, emotionless, ruthless face- it had haunted him for days. Now though…

 _I am betrothed to her. She deserves to know. If she refuses, I shall honour our arrangement and break the betrothal- after all, there is no way anyone would want to tie in a bond with someone who was at Death's beck and call._

He walked towards her, his eyes only for her, as he walked up to her bed. Tracy and Astoria looked at each other, and nodding, slowly got up and left the room- Tracy thumping her hand on Harry' shoulder supportively as she walked out.

"How are you now?" Harry asked finally.

"Still here," Daphne shrugged.

"It seems that my proclivity to attract danger has contaminated you as well." Harry tried to joke. "This was… what… the fourth attack since we met?"

Daphne frowned, reading between the lines. "Harry- you know that I don't blame you. If anything, I am angry at myself. You taught me so much, and despite it all, I failed once again, when it mattered. Seems I am a bloody loser." She hung her head down.

"Hey!" Harry's hand moved up to Daphne's cheek. "Live and learn, right?"

"I suppose." Daphne returned, "Where were you all this time?"

"I- had some… things to take care of." Harry replied evasively. Fortunately, Daphne didn't seem to question any further down that line. "I can understand." Her hands intertwined around his, as she looked at him frightfully. "I watched you die. He…. He threw you through the… veil."

My fists clenched.

"Daphne…"

"Yes?"

"There is… something that I need to tell you."

"What?" Daphne asked slowly, fearing the worst. Surely Harry had not decided to forsake her, not after all of that.

"Daphne… you remember the moments this past year, when I told you things about ancient magics and history, that I shouldn't have known?"

Daphne nodded.

"It's like…" Harry paused, trying to gather his words.

"What's wrong?"

"Daphne… thousands of years ago, there was a man, a man who did a deal with Death to protect all those that he cared for. A man who… who gave up his life and his choices to become a hunter for Death, hunting Dark witches and wizards for the rest of his life… A seemingly immortal, dark-wizard hunter."

Daphne nodded, trying to understand where it was all going.

"His name… back then, was Ignotus Peverell, the last of Peverells…" Harry paused, as he stared in her eyes, "—that man was me."

Daphne stared back at him in confusion.

"For some reason, when I fell through the Veil of Death- I should have died, never to return. But- by some fashion, my past life and my… well, this life, mixed together… and I returned back, still bound by the laws that bound me to Death in my previous life."

Daphne opened her mouth, then closed it back again.

"Daphne," Harry replied, "I am Harry Potter. And at the same time, I am also… Ignotus Peverell."


End file.
